Meta-Fic III
by YukonWolf
Summary: The League is shattered. The Church is weakened. With the major players out of the game, the heroes must vie with religious zealots, ambitious generals and secret societies for dominance, and for the future of the entire land.
1. Chapter 1

**September 27, 10 ATC**

**Propolis Province, Oligarchy of Bumblebee**

The mid-autumn winds of Bumblebee stirred the stray leaves on the path as the White Rose convoy rode through. Captain Yuichiro pressed his horse into a hard pace across the dusty path, casting a backward glance to make sure his men were keeping pace. The sky was overcast, so he could not see the sun, but he guessed that they could ride for another hour or two before they had to strike camp.

The communications they carried were of the utmost importance. The Church's vassal lords were growing discontented; the house of cards was swaying beneath them. Knowing who they could trust and who they couldn't would be the key to survival, and the letters with him would tell Jannis exactly where his vassals stood.

"Hurry up, you louses!" Yuichiro bellowed behind him. "We'll strike camp in an hour!" He did a quick scan of the surrounding hills and found nothing. The Bumblebee highlands were notoriously thick with bandits, and his men could not afford to be delayed.

The path ahead of them thinned, the depression to their left side growing deeper and deeper until they were riding on the edge of a cliff. Ahead of them, past a few more treacherous turns, they could see a small break in the hills, where the bridge to White Rose's territory would be. Once across, they would find some flatland to strike camp.

"Faster!" Yuichiro bellowed. The path steepened, and the fog around them grew thicker. Yuichiro clutched his knapsack close to his chest as they galloped toward the bridge, hoping that, just maybe, an escort would be there to greet them.

"Whoa!" The man at the front of the line reared his horse and stopped, causing the rest of the line to stop. A few of the men asked aloud why they had stopped, and one other struggled to remount his horse after stopping so quickly he had been bucked off. Yuichiro quickly dismounted and walked to the front of the line.

"What's the problem?" he asked nobody in particular, but then he saw for himself: the bridge was out. About halfway across the wide gorge, he saw the other end of the bridge, relatively unharmed. Beneath them, the supports of the bridge still stood, scorched by burn marks and splintered as they went farther up. The smell of powder was still in the air; this was a recent sabotage.

"What happened here, sir?" A soldier asked. Yuichiro frowned and took scope of his surroundings. To his left, an almost sheer drop, pockmarked by a few malformed trees and scraggly bushes. To their right, the high hills sloped up a little further, with enough trees and bushes to hide an ambush force.

"It was an ambush, clearly," Yuichiro replied. "And a recent one, by the looks of it." He took stock of his men. A dozen tired cavalrymen, but they would have to do.

"What should we do?" Another rider asked. Yuichiro furrowed his brow.

"George, Douglas, Omar, Dwight!" He called. "Send a sortie up the hillside. Let's rid ourselves of these mountain pests."

The four men dismounted, readied their weapons, and slowly ascended the hillside. One of the men came up behind Yuichiro and watched the sortie with him.

"Why so few men, sir?" he asked. Yuichiro smiled.

"The fact that the bridge hasn't been totally dismantled tells me that these men are either few in number or lacking in skill," he said. "It's still smoking, so they must be nearby. And the damage isn't so severe as to stop us completely. We can double back for the supplies and fix it up tomorrow."

"And the ambushers?" the soldier asked. He watched his four fellows poke around the greenery on top of the hill, finding nothing. "Where are they?"

"An excellent question," someone behind them said. Yuichiro turned around to see which of his soldiers had joined their conversation, only to suddenly feel a searing pain in his knee and fall to the ground. He looked down at his knee and saw an arrowhead sticking out of the back of it.

"What?" he yelled, but instantly, he understood. The ambushers clambered up from the cliffside, taking his men by surprise. Yuichiro tried to crawl away as a woman with an eyepatch skewered the man he was talking to.

"Damned bandits!" Yuichiro cried, and he unsheathed his sword. Already, though, it was over: his men were all killed, or were severely wounded, and Yuichiro could see the sortie he had sent out fleeing into the wilderness, their attackers close behind.

"We aren't bandits," the woman with the eyepatch said. "Do you think bandits could've fooled the most noble soldiers of the Church of Thorns?"

"Scum!" Yuichiro yelled. The woman ignored him, keeping her sword pointed at him. A man with a prosthetic leg emerged from the scene behind her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Austin," he said. "We lost Robert, Sidney and Jackson. Two more are wounded."

"Then we'll suture them and double back to the hideout," Austin said. "Once the good captain gives us what we want."

"Wait," Yuichiro said. "You're Austin? Then you must be… Nitesco!"

"In the flesh," Nitesco said, flashing him a grim smile. Yuichiro pointed his sword at him.

"Traitors!" Yuichiro spat. "What do you want with me?"

"We don't care about you, captain," Austin said. "We only care about what's in that knapsack of yours. A friend of ours told us that what you have with you could be very valuable."

"I won't—" Yuichiro was interrupted by Austin's fist crashing into his jaw. He sank to the ground, dropping the knapsack and his sword. Austin swatted his sword off the cliff while Nitesco picked the knapsack up and began combing through it.

"A lot of letters here, captain," Nitesco said. "Why do you have them?"

"I'm not telling you reprobates anything!" Yuichiro yelled. Austin sighed.

"My sword may disagree with you," she said. She pointed the tip at Yuichiro's injured knee. Nitesco winced at the thought, but stayed silent.

"Why do you have them?" Austin repeated. Yuichiro growled. There was no point in resisting.

"Jannis's vassal lords," Yuichiro said. "Correspondences, events, places. Just to ensure who's loyal and who isn't, and to keep the malcontents in line."

"Some interesting names here," Nitesco said. "Generic of Lancaster. Horsea of Springthyme. And… Inferno of Crosshares and Pollination!" He chuckled. "The boy-king of Crosshares. Never thought I'd see the day."

"Any other names?" Austin asked. She relaxed her grip on her sword and looked to Nitesco, leaving her blind side toward her hostage. It gave Yuichiro all the time he needed.

"You'll never know!" Yuichiro yelled. He snatched the knapsack from Nitesco and backpedaled to the edge of the bridge. Austin recovered and grabbed her sword while Nitesco raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"Easy captain," he said. "There's no need for such extreme action. Just throw us the knapsack and we'll take you prisoner. No point in dying over a few pieces of paper, is there?"

"I would rather die than fail in my mission," Yuichiro said. "You can pry them from my cold, dead hands! Long live the Church!"

At once, Yuichiro heard a loud bang and felt a searing pain in his hand. Looking up, he saw Nitesco aiming a strange device at him. A lead pellet fell from Yuichiro's hand as he tumbled backward in surprise, and he dropped the knapsack. It gave Austin all the time she needed.

As Yuichiro and the knapsack went over the edge, Austin dove forward, landing with an uncomfortable thud on her stomach, and thrusted her sword over the edge. She managed to grab the knapsack, just barely getting the strap on the edge of her sword before catapulting it backwards to safety. Yuichiro could do nothing but watch in shock before he fell onto an exposed support with a sickening crunch and plummeted into the ravine.

Austin breathed a sigh of relief and turned to see where the knapsack had flown. It had landed on the ground and spilled its contents. A few soldiers began grabbing the letters that had fallen while Nitesco reloaded and holstered his hand cannon

"You know, you didn't have to be so dramatic about that," Nitesco said. Austin grinned and flicked the side of his head.

"Catch it next time, then," Austin said. "You're the one with depth perception." Nitesco shook his head and failed to hide a smile. He picked up the knapsack and shoved it in his horse's side satchel.

"So flippant," he chided. The soldiers handed him the letters, and he shoved them into the inside of his cloak. "These could bring down the Church, you know."

"You really think this will turn the tide?" Austin asked. She felt a shock of eagerness, but it quickly subsided. There was no point in premature celebration, she thought.

"I do," Nitesco said. "The Church isn't just another power-grabbing tyrant. They're astute. They're clever. We can't just bring them down on our own. We need to take their supports out from under them. Their allies. Without their levies and subjects and blackmail—" He flashed a handful of envelopes. "They're just Outlanders. Nobody will want to help them."

"The Captain seemed quite insistent on dying for the Church. He didn't sound like an Outlander," Austin said, mounting her horse. Nitesco sighed.

"Well, the question of what to do with their converts once this is finished remains. But that can be dealt with another time." Nitesco urged his horse into a trot and turned back down the mountain path. "We can discuss such things back at the hideout. Men! Let's move out! We need to return before nightfall!"

Nitesco and the men began riding down the mountain path, which had been cleared of the Church soldiers' bodies. The blood, though, still remained. Austin sighed and, with one final glance out into the ravine, turned her horse and followed Nitesco.

* * *

**October 2, 10 ATC**

**Osiria Cathedral, Laevig Province, Kingdom of White Rose**

Jannis knelt before the three coffins, shivering in the cold air of the crypt. The cathedral was under construction, still, and the autumn winds blasted cool air through where the windows would soon be. The gusts made their way all the way down into the private crypt, chilling Jannis. He had grown too used to the Subreddit's warm climate, he thought. He pulled his cloak closer around and shuddered.

He stood up and put his hand on the coffin to the left. A few scavengers had found Faker's body in the river in the aftermath of Faker's assault. The scum recognized who he was and even had the gall to sell the corpse back to Jannis for an exorbitant sum. Jannis had "persuaded" them to give it up for free, and he gave Faker the proper rites.

Jannis gave a forlorn look to the coffin on the right. When they found Draco after the attack on Fort Bombus, he was comatose, occasionally awakening to mumble nonsense and apologies before slipping back into unconsciousness. After six months of attempting to reawaken whatever remained of him, he ordered a servant to slip a certain concoction into his food and put him out of his misery. Despite his distaste for what Zissman had done to him, Jannis had allowed the undertaker to mark his grave under the name 'Draco.'

And in the center was Zissman. It was surreal to see the person who had raised him up to be the most powerful warrior in the Church laid so low. Death by poison, the weapon of a coward. The Church back in the Northlands would surely have been devastated to hear of their beloved Scion's death, but Jannis knew that there were few who had not left the Northlands to settle the Subreddit, so little would change for them now that he was unofficially in control.

"Jannis," a voice said. Jannis sighed and turned around. Vicar Rowing was standing in the archway, smoothing his hair, which had been frizzled by the gusts of wind. "The rest have arrived."

"Have they been waiting?" Jannis asked.

"No," Rowing replied. "I came as soon as the General and the Baroness returned. I sent a servant for Lord Link as well."

"Thank you, Rowing." Jannis stood and wiped the dust off his shoulder. "Shall we?"

Rowing nodded and began following Jannis through the unfinished cathedral, finding their way into the back rooms. As they walked into the unfinished main chamber, Jannis turned to Rowing.

"Tell me the truth, Rowing," he said. "Our followers. Do they support this war?"

Rowing sighed. "Some have grown tired of it. Some never agreed with it in the first place. But that doesn't matter; we are bidden to follow the commands of the Scion, no matter what."

"You yourself disagreed with Zissman, yes?" Jannis asked. Rowing sighed again and nodded.

"Zissman was always a radical," he said. "Far too zealous for my tastes. But he brought together not only our own communities, but this entire new land under one rule. For all his faults, I cannot argue with his results."

"Do you think we can maintain his gains?" Jannis asked.

"Not all of them," Rowing said. "Not by force. We should start missionary activity. The more they see us as foreigners and tyrants, the fewer we will assimilate, and our victory will not be complete until they love us as their own."

"There is no love in this horrid Subreddit," Jannis said. "Only strength. Only cunning. I understand where you come from, but we must secure our dominance before we can rub elbows with the natives. And we should not forget our heritage."

"No, we shouldn't," Rowing said. "But we should also remember that our goal is survival first, empire second. You ought not to make the same mistakes Zissman made." Jannis pursed his lips, but said nothing, and they went the rest of the way in silence.

They arrived in a spacious chamber. Seated around a small dinner table sat Jannis's closest confidants: General Strike, Baroness Anti and the most recent addition to their inner circle, Lord Link.

"Jannis!" Anti said. "I'm surprised you weren't here to meet us."

"I was busy," Jannis said. He took his seat at the head of the table, and Rowing took the seat to his left. "But we have more important matters to discuss."

"Yes, we do," Strike said. "The League is in shambles, but still they manage to harass us! Junipera remains firmly outside our sphere of influence, and our campaigns there fare poorly. What's more, South Heroa and Villainia—"

"Strike," Jannis said, and Strike went silent. "I am fully aware of the military situation. I know our problems. Why do you think they afflict us? Are we not powerful enough? Do we not have the resources? Are our tacticians not up to the task?"

"The problem is our vassals!" Link exclaimed, though his answer was muffled by the scarf that was ever wrapped around his face. "They won't come through when it counts! They dodge our messengers, disobey orders, waste their troops on power plays! It's infuriating!" He slammed his hand into the table. "To think that anyone could defy us; defy the Goddess!"

"Pull that insufferable scarf off," Anti said. "Nobody can understand you with it on."

Link huffed, but he obeyed. The scarf came down, revealing the scar on his left cheek: a massive brand in the shape of an "H" that signified him as a heretic. The former king of White Rose had not been kind to the first converts, especially one as zealous as Link.

"As I was saying," Link said, quieter now, "the problem is our so-called 'vassals.' Until we can be assured of their loyalty, we cannot hold the lands as our own."

"Didn't you dispatch messengers to meet with our agents in the south?" Jannis asked Link.

"I did, my liege," Link said. "Captain Yuichiro, my finest bodyguard. He's a reliable guy. But he was to return some time ago."

"He could be delayed," Rowing offered. Strike scoffed.

"If he's as reliable as Link says, then he would not be 'delayed.'" Strike began drumming his fingers. "It's the rebels, it has to be! Was the information Yuichiro was sent to retrieve valuable?"

"Correspondences of our vassals," Link said. "Proof of their loyalty, or blackmail if they weren't."

Anti's eye twitched. "If they got their hands on that information…" She grit her teeth. "They could turn our subjects against us!"

"I am well aware of what that means for us," Jannis said. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Clearly our agents are incapable of keeping this information secret. Is there any other way we could reacquire what we lost?"

"Not short of uprooting the league and finding the letters ourselves," Strike said. "I would be glad to do that, by the way."

Jannis sighed and turned to Anti. "Anti, do you know anybody with comparable spy networks? Someone we could sway to our side?"

Anti stroked her chin and nodded. "There is one man: Governor Sphinx Black, the ruler of Checkmate."

"Checkmate?" Jannis leaned forward. "Never heard of it."

"It's an exclave of Monochrome; territory they control farther up the Confirmed River. Sphinx governs the territory with his grandson, but he has forty years' worth of connections and influence. He's been a ruler longer than any other man or woman in this Subreddit."

"Is he obedient to us?" Jannis asked.

"No more or less than Onyzyon, his liege," Anti said. "But if we had him on our side, the intelligence he could gather would be worth it."

"Can we trust him?" Link asked.

"We do still have an empty seat at the table," Rowing said, gesturing to the seat at the end opposite Jannis. "It could be a profitable arrangement."

"I know of his reputation," Strike said. "I've heard he's the dependable sort. If we get him on our side, then we can still pull through!"

"Then it seems we are in accord," Jannis said. "Anti, Rowing. Invite him to the town nearby and see what you can do to get him to assist us. His intelligence could make up for what we lost."

"It will be done," Rowing said. He bowed his head obediently.

"You should know that it will take time to get him over here," Anti said. "He is old, and travel is difficult for men of his age. We must make up for our lost time, no matter what he has to offer."

"Oh, I intend to," Jannis said. "There are several prominent lords and ladies who have been quite… noncommittal since swearing allegiance. Generic of Lancaster, Inferno of the Commonwealth, Taco of the Yaoi Coalition. We must ensure their obedience." He looked up. "Link!" he said. Link snapped to attention. "You and I will treat with these leaders as soon as we can. Anti and Rowing will handle Governor Sphinx, as we discussed."

"As you command." Link pulled his scarf back over his scarred face.

"And what am I to do?" Strike asked.

"Continue our campaign in Renora," Jannis replied. "We have brought down Guns N' Roses. We have bloodied Arkos's nose. If we cripple Renora, we cripple the League remnants too." He stood and bade the rest of them to rise. "You are all dismissed."

His lieutenants rose and left without another word, and Jannis was alone. He shut the door to the cluttered dining room and went over to the pile of treasures in the corner. From behind a set of extra chairs, he pulled out a portrait of Zissman and leaned it up against the wall. He never liked how eagerly Zissman took to the customs of the nobility, but he kept the portrait around anyway.

"Well, Irving," he said. "I think I've taken to your role quite well. Never thought a brute like me could take after you, huh?"

Zissman didn't answer. His gaze seemed to be skeptical.

"Ah, what am I doing?" Jannis sighed "Talking to an old portrait. I must be going mad…"

"Jannis!" Rowing's voice sounded down the hall. "The masons say there's trouble with the rotunda supports. They want to speak with you!"

Damned architects, Jannis thought. Could barely do their jobs without his supervision. As if he didn't have enough to deal with.

"In a minute!" he replied, and he turned back to Zissman's portrait. Oddly, its gaze seemed to have taken on a more sympathetic appearance.

"Must be going mad…" Jannis said again. He pushed the portrait back behind the extra chairs and went to meet with the masons.


	2. Chapter 2

**October 8, 10 ATC**

**Ratt Manor, State of Asimov, March of Nuts and Dolts**

Various sat contentedly in his bedroom, looking out the window over his view of the beach. For twenty-two years he had lived here, since he had been granted the manor by the government, and not once had he ever tired of the view. The moonlight illuminated the ocean, and Various felt himself falling asleep.

He glanced at the grandfather clock. It was almost ten. "It's late," he muttered to himself, and he stretched himself out on the bed. At once, he heard a loud thump from the study, and sat up.

Perhaps it was one of the servants, he thought. But no, they would be in their quarters by now. Perhaps he was hearing the house settle, then.

Another thud. This wasn't a figment of his imagination; somebody was in study that shouldn't be there. Various got out of bed and crept over to the door. He poked his head into the hallway and noticed that the study door was ajar, and he could distinctly hear somebody shifting around in the room.

Various tiptoed over to the door and poked his head inside the study. In the center, a man sat in a chair facing away from the entrance. His feet were kicked up on a table, and he was reading a book he held in one hand.

"And the great beast crushed the armies, devoured the soldiers, and destroyed the forts and temples. And its rider surveyed the destruction, knowing that he and he alone was capable of defeating the armies with his radiant, awesome, flawless power…" The man signed and tossed the book aside. "What utter shit. Whoever wrote that was far too convinced of their own talent." He stood up, his bones cracking as he steadied himself on the armrest. "Seriously, do you read this crap?"

"I don't know who the hell you are," Various said. "But you made a mistake coming here." The man shifted, and Various took a few steps forward. "Move another inch and I'll cut you!"

"With what?" the man asked. "This?" He turned around and held up Various's falx, a special curved sword, sharp on the inside, with a light hook at the end. Various stopped in his tracks and grunted. Without his weapon, he would have to defeat his opponent by other means.

The man was tall and thin, and his voice sounded rough and aged, but his face was obscured by a featureless mask. He wore a dark green cloak over an outfit of leather and thin plate armor, but he carried no weapon other than Various's falx. The man chuckled and tossed the falx at Various's feet.

"Relax, I'm no assassin. I just enjoy making an entrance." The masked man bowed. "You may have heard of me: I am the Mask. I come on behalf of my syndicate and the remains of the Badaz League. I come with an offer."

Various chuckled. "You rotten old geezer. I know your tricks. I know your voice." He picked up the falx and pointed it casually at the Mask. "Did you really think I wouldn't recognize you, Yukon?"

Yukon sighed and undid his mask, revealing a thick head of graying blond hair and his face, crisscrossed with faded scars. He gave Various a clever smile.

"In the flesh, or what's left of it." He pointed at Various. "And for the record, I'm only 58. I'm not that old."

"Why'd you come?" Various asked. He leaned on his falx and smiled ruefully. "I could turn you in, you know. Known war criminal, tyrant, revolutionary, criminal leader… the list goes on. I could expect a very handsome reward, and you are unarmed."

"You wouldn't do that to your old friend Yukon, would you?" Yukon chuckled. "After all you did for me and Celtic during his revolt? Imagine what I might say under torture. That you stamped out rebels and kidnapped dissidents for us. Your manor, your prestige, your pension, your legacy. Gone to shit." Yukon leaned on the side of the chair and gave him a cocky smile. "Mutual assured destruction. But I trust you're more reasonable than that."

Various laughed, in spite of himself. "You've still got that horrible cunning," he noted. "I just wanted to see if you still have it. Truth be told, even that would be more exciting than being cooped up here all day."

"Oh, poor you, living in a resplendent seaside manor with your servants and squires, all at the state's expense." Yukon groaned. "What a terrible fate. But if you're looking for a thrill, I may have just the job for you."

"I knew you had an offer in your back pocket," Various said.

"Then we can finally dispense with the pleasantries," Yukon said. "I've come with an offer concerning the conflict with the Church of Thorns."

Various frowned. "Ah, that. That's quite the debacle. What do you have in mind?"

"Currently, the war against the Church is a guerilla war," Yukon said, "excluding the ongoing campaigns in Junipera and the far south. The Church's opponents are gearing up to make a major assault, but with the meager forces available, it won't be enough. We need somebody like you to tip the scales."

"Tip the scales?" Various laughed. "You flatter me."

"Then you misunderstand me," Yukon said. "We have a plan to rebuild our forces, but in the meantime, there's still a guerilla campaign to wage and as much as I love the commanders, they're more suited to traditional warfare. They need someone pragmatic, someone experienced. Like you."

"Guerilla warfare!" Various exclaimed. He laughed and took a seat next to Yukon. "It's been a while since I did that. It's been twenty-odd years since the Third Shipping War ended, you know."

"That doesn't matter," Yukon said. "We need someone like you now. And if a war hero joins the rebellion, I'm sure many will follow."

"The government of Nuts and Dolts won't like me disappearing," Various said. "And the Margrave has already sworn fealty to the Church."

"I'm sure they aren't eager subjects," Yukon said. "Don't worry about them; I can take care of those problems. Think of what you have to gain from this: money, prestige, an even greater tale in the history books—"

"I don't want money," Various said. "I have a large enough pension. And deeds of valor and heroism aren't what I normally do. That's just state propaganda."

"Then what can I offer you?" Yukon asked.

"The first pick of the Church's treasury," Various said. He kicked his feet up on the table. "They must have lots of treasure and relics. They'd be excellent souvenirs."

"Souvenirs?" Yukon muttered. "Of course. We'd be glad to allow—"

"And," Various said. "I don't want to be involved in anything after this. No more battles, no negotiations, no post-war reforms. This is it."

"That's it?" Yukon asked. Various nodded.

"Kicking down scum like the Church is why I enlisted in the first place," he said. "That's my obligation."

"Not your duty, huh?" Yukon asked. Various shook his head.

"Duty is such an idealistic concept," Various said. "People just aren't comfortable with the idea of killing because they're obliged to, so they moralize about it. Pisses me off."

Yukon frowned. "Then I will warn you, Austin and Nitesco can be quite… idealistic. They may take some getting used to."

Various scoffed. "Idealists. Every war's a just war to somebody, right?" He sat up. "Ah, well. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. We have a deal."

Yukon reattached his mask and pulled his hood up over his head. "That's excellent," he said, and he turned to leave. "I guess I'll see you in the war room."

"Before you go," Various said, "I have a request."

Yukon stopped. "Name it," he said.

"The next time you want to talk with me, just knock on the front door." Various stood up. "I don't know how you got in, and I know you won't tell me. So for the sake of my own mental health, just come to the door like a normal person."

Yukon snickered. "That wasn't part of the deal," he said. "But fine. I'll use the door."

"Thank you," Various said, but Yukon was already gone. He sighed, making sure to bring his falx with him as he returned to bed.

* * *

**October 24, 10 ATC**

**City of Edmund, Occupied Lancaster**

Vulpix sat at a small round table in the command center's war room, which had not been redecorated since it had been captured from Lancaster nearly two years ago. The Church waged a constant war on its shores, trying to break their way into Junipera, but they were not as well entrenched as Arkos. Vulpix stared at a map of the nearby shoreline, marking the weakest points in the line, when he heard a knock on the open door.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"A messenger, sir," a woman replied. "The Oligarchs you summoned are here. They await you in the officer's lounge."

Vulpix did not look up from his maps. "Send them up here," he said. The woman hesitated.

"They said they would wait in the officer's lounge," she repeated. Vulpix grumbled and set down his quill.

"And I'm telling you to send them up here," Vulpix said. "I cannot be disturbed while I am working."

The messenger reluctantly obeyed, leaving Vulpix alone with his maps. Pompous fools, he thought. To think that Arkos would one day be back in their hands…

A few minutes later, the messenger returned with the Oligarchs in tow. Vulpix gestured for them to take their seats as the messenger closed the door behind her.

"General 'Zealander.'" General Vaniellis was the first to speak. He was the most recent addition to their council, nominated to replace Strike. From what Vulpix knew of him, though, he had inherited his predecessor's nationalism.

"Vaniellis," Vulpix said. The councilmen all took their seats and listened attentively.

"Why have you brought us here?" Admiral Bluewhale, ever imperious, spoke first.

"It had best be important," Governor Wingnut added.

"Would I have called you up here if it wasn't?" Vulpix asked.

"It wouldn't be out of character," General Reno said. Vulpix sighed and ignored him.

"I have brought you here to discuss the end of the war," Vulpix said. That caught their attention. All five of them straightened up in their seats, now eager to hear what Vulpix had to say. Though he would never admit it, he was amused by their sudden change in attitude.

"We have received intelligence that the Church's foundation is unstable," Vulpix continued. "That they are losing the support of their vassals. This provides an excellent opportunity to strike, I would say. If we can lop off their head now, then it will mean that this whole war could end in one campaign."

"That's fantastic news!" Vaniellis said. "Where do we strike? When?"

"Easy, man, easy," Vulpix said. "The Church leaders reside in White Rose."

"White Rose?" Presbyter Ijustread spoke at last. "But that's deep in Rubian territory, far out of our reach."

"We would need far more men than we have on hand to manage a campaign like that," Reno said. "And the League is almost nonexistent. With Renora under siege, we would need far more men than are available."

"That would be suicide," Wingnut concurred.

Vulpix sighed. "And therein lies the gamble," he said. "But I know that attacking with all the forces we have now would be suicide. I have no intention of doing that. Austin and Nitesco have formulated a plan."

"Austin and Nitesco have been responsible for some of our worst defeats," Bluewhale said. "Fort Bombus, the city of Edmund, Guns N' Roses! They cannot be trusted to manage our armies!"

"They are accomplished diplomats," Presbyter Ijustread said.

"Diplomacy will not change the fact that we are low on supplies and manpower," Reno said, frustrated. "And even with those, the path through Rubia would be treacherous at best!"

"Any plan to win is better than none," Vaniellis said. "We should at least hear what Vul— what Zealander has to say."

"Stop bickering and I'll tell you," Vulpix said. "We intercepted intelligence that will tell us which of the Church's vassals are most sympathetic toward our cause."

"Excellent news," Wingnut said. "But what does this have to do with us?"

"If we can get them on our side," Vulpix said, "then we can begin the second phase of our plan."

"And what would that be?" Vaniellis asked.

"To treat with these lords and bring them to our side," Vulpix said. "Their manpower, their supplies, and most importantly, inside information and the element of surprise."

"That's it?" Bluewhale asked. "That's our plan? To hope that these men will maybe come over to our side?" He huffed. "Preposterous!"

"Even I must agree that is quite the gamble," Ijustread said.

"Obviously we won't commit our forces if we aren't assured of their defection," Vulpix said. "But if we do manage to get them on our side, then they would tip the scales in our favor. And then, we could finally overthrow the Church!"

"This would require most of our reserves," Wingnut observed. "Reserves that are already depleted defending our territory."

"And what if it fails?" Reno asked. "What if we are left vulnerable? We can't afford to lose much more?"

"All of war is a gamble," Vaniellis said, "and we aren't making gains sitting here and fending off invasion. We have to commit!"

"Not without a guarantee that our new 'friends' won't abandon us," Reno said. "If you can get us those guarantees, then I will consider supporting it." Wingnut and Ijustread nodded in assent.

Bluewhale looked from side to side, seeing that all his fellow Oligarchs had relented, and sighed. "Very well," he said. "I will support this strategy. But since most of our reserves come from my province, I expect to be made a leader in this campaign."

"A leader?" Reno said. "You are an admiral. What do you know about land war?"

"I went through training," Bluewhale said. "I understand!"

"Do you understand enough?" Wingnut asked. He asked without malice or sarcasm, but Bluewhale still flared with anger at him.

"More than you!" he retorted. "You've stayed safe and governed Greater Arkos for the last twenty years! You haven't seen open war in at least ten!"

"Please stop bickering," Vulpix said. "Bluewhale, I will allow you to go on this campaign, but I will send Vaniellis with you. It's time he proved his mettle."

Vaniellis gave a nod to Vulpix. "Thank you. I would love the chance to take the Church down."

"As for the rest of you," he said. "Reno, I will entrust you with the defense of our territory. Wingnut, Ijustread, I entrust you with the administration of the realm. Make sure our people do not turn against us as well."

"Are you going to go on this campaign as well?" Ijustread asked. "You are growing old, are you not?"

"I will be going on this campaign," Vulpix said. "My age be damned. But that brings me to my final issue." He stood and began pacing the room. "For the last five years, I have effectively run Arkosian politics. We all know this. But I am growing tired of having this burden on me."

"Are you stepping down?" Vaniellis asked. He was curious, but the others had faces of dread. They had little love for Vulpix, but they knew that he was the reason for their stability. Without his influence, they would have to deal with politics far more than most were comfortable with.

"I will be, yes," Vulpix said. "But do not fear. I have many loyal supporters who would be happy to keep the Oligarchy from being undermined by some of our more… ambitious underlings."

"Who will replace you?" Bluewhale asked. Despite the situation, he sounded oddly hopeful. Vulpix frowned.

"There will be no replacement," he said. "I expect that the position of Military Advisor will be dissolved upon my resignation."

The Oligarchs were taken aback by this. Vulpix laughed.

"I know it may seem hypocritical of me to say this," Vulpix said, "but I do not believe that anyone should possess the power I have had. I do not feel I can trust anyone else with the kind of sway I have, for fear of their ambition. Surely you can all agree on that?"

The Oligarchs nodded. Transitions of power were never comfortable, but without Vulpix to restrain them, they could handle administration without looking for his approval. Vulpix watched as each of them weighed the situation in his mind, wondering how it would play out for them.

Vulpix took his seat again, and he raised his arms to them. "Oh, my friends, do not be afraid. All we have to do is win this war and be on our merry way!"

"Are you sure about this?" Ijustread asked.

Vulpix shrugged. "As sure as I ever am," he said. "Now go. You have preparations to make."

The Oligarchs obeyed, filing out of the room and leaving Vulpix alone again. He rolled up his map of Lancaster's shores and replaced it with a map of Arkos, wondering how that map would change once he had gone.

* * *

**October 25, 10 ATC**

**Crouchback Village, Occupied Lancaster**

Austin sat in the lobby of what was once an inn, reading the letters she and Nitesco had recovered. They were all the same: expressions of dissatisfaction with the Church, of desire for independence, even some talk of outright sedition. But these meant nothing on their own. She and Nitesco had to act on them, for these lords would never act alone.

Austin sighed and set the letters down, taking a moment to look out the window. Crouchback had been evacuated and left abandoned during their conquest of Lancaster, but it had been occupied by the Arkosians and turned over to Nitesco after their defeat at Fort Bombus to serve as a base of operations. It was the perfect hiding-hole: it was only fifteen miles from both Lancaster's northern and western borders, and twenty from the Confirmed River. In addition, it was small and in rather unremarkable lowlands, which would help it escape notice if the worst were to happen.

"Austin!" A familiar voice filled the inn's lobby, and Austin looked up to see who it was. Kazehh stood in the doorframe, out of breath.

"Kazehh!" she exclaimed. "What's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong," he said. He stretched his back. "Quite the opposite, actually. One of our scouts spotted a convoy headed this way. Nitesco's already gone out to greet them."

"Who is it?" Austin asked.

Kazehh smirked. "You'll see."

The pair wandered out of the inn and into the main street, watching the road for the convoy's arrival. After a few minutes, the convoy made its way over the nearest hill, heading for Crouchback. The carriages were painted in the regal black of Renora, with dark green and red highlights.

"I wasn't expecting the Renorans to show up," Austin said. "But I'm not displeased. When did you spot them?"

"About fifteen minutes ago," Kazehh said, "when they crossed the border from White Knight. Nitesco and a few others rode out to greet them." He paused. "I wonder why they're here."

"Well," Austin said. "I guess we'll find out."

The main carriage pulled up next to Austin and stopped in the middle of the road. Riding next to the carriage was Nitesco, wearing a broad smile.

"Good morning, Austin," Nitesco called down from his horse. "Glad to see you came outside for something."

"Good morning to you too," Austin said. "What have you scavenged for us this morning?"

At once, the carriage door swung open, and Coronam stumbled out. "I object to that," he said, and he steadied himself against the carriage.

"You look worse for wear," Austin said. "Riding sickness?"

"It happens," Coronam said, and he straightened himself out.

"There's a lot of carriages behind you," Austin observed. "How much are you bringing with you?"

"Not much material," Coronam said. "People. My bodyguards and my advisors, mostly. But there is one person I want you to meet." He leaned in closer to Austin and Kazehh. "He's very excited."

"Who wouldn't be?" Kazehh said. Austin elbowed him.

Coronam gestured to the back of the line, and Austin, Nitesco, and Kazehh looked to see who was coming. Opifexa came up over the hill, pushed in a wheelchair by a young boy.

"Opifexa!" Kazehh exclaimed. He and Austin smiled at seeing her. Opifexa smiled back upon seeing them, gesturing to the boy pushing her to stop.

"Austin. Nitesco. And Kazehh, of course." She laughed. "It's good to see you again."

"It's been too long," Nitesco said. "How is castle life treating you?"

"Better than a Church prison," she said. "The wheelchair's bulky, but I've gotten used to it."

"And who is this young man?" Austin asked. The young man stared up at her. He looked to Coronam, who smiled and nodded.

"I am Prince Alfonse of Renora," he said. He said it with no pride or arrogance, but a quiet recognition of what that meant. Austin suddenly got the sense that he was far older in spirit than she would've given him credit for. "This is my father, Coronam. It's a pleasure to meet you all."

"Likewise, little man!" Kazehh exclaimed. He patted Alfonse on the shoulder enthusiastically, and Alfonse chuckled. Nitesco dismounted his horse to shake hands with the little prince. Austin grinned at the sight, then turned to Coronam.

"I never knew you had a son," she whispered. Coronam's smile faded a bit.

"His mother died in the same outbreak that took Zentics," Coronam said. "I try to be a good father, but the duties of the state take me away…"

"How old is he?" Austin asked.

"He turned twelve about three months ago," Coronam said. "A promising heir. And the only one of my lineage. The Renoran throne will only allow men to be king, so if he dies…"

"I understand," Austin said. She paused. "Is that why you came out here?"

Coronam nodded. "My palace is crawling with assassins. There were six in the two weeks before I came here. Six!" He sighed. "I cannot guarantee my loved ones' safety, so I entrust them to you."

"Do you intend to join the fight?" Austin asked.

"Indeed," Coronam said. "However I can help."

"Then come inside the inn with me," Austin said. "I actually have quite the opportunity—"

"Excuse me, miss?" Alfonse said. He looked up at Austin, a twinkle of admiration in his eye. He extended his hand. "I don't believe we've met yet."

Austin shook his outstretched hand. "Well now we have, Prince Alfonse," Austin said. "You can call me Austin."

"Well, Austin," Alfonse said. "It's good that we've finally met."

"Alfonse!" Opifexa cried. "Come here! Kazehh is going to show us where we're staying!"

Alfonse obeyed, giving a quick backwards glance at Austin and his father before hurrying over to Opifexa. Austin watched Coronam's smile fade into a grim frown as he watched his son and Opifexa.

"You don't have to worry about them," Austin said. "Not here."

"Perhaps," Coronam said. "But that's enough of that. What was this opportunity you were going to tell me about?"

Austin led Coronam into the inn, where Nitesco was already seated at a table. He exchanged a nod with Coronam before gesturing to the letters that were strewn about.

"You see these letters here?" Nitesco asked. "These letters—"

"I already know about the letters," Coronam said.

Nitesco blinked. "How?"

"The Mask has been in contact with Opifexa," Coronam said. "He told me about the letters, and what you plan to do with them. Not a bad plan, even if it is a little risky."

"High risk, high reward," Austin said. "And it's not like we have any other options."

"That's fair. Did the Mask tell you where he wanted to start?" Coronam asked. "We've been out of contact with him since we left Renora."

"He said to send someone trusted to Checkmate," Nitesco said, "and meet him at Port Anderssen in a week's time."

"Well, that settles it then," Coronam said. "I'll go."

"You'll go?" Austin asked. "Just like that?"

"The longer I'm here, the more likely it is that this place becomes a target," Coronam replied. "Your soldiers need you more than they need me. Besides, I have sway with these people."

Nitesco shrugged and looked to Austin. "I have no issues if you don't."

"If you want to, Coronam, we won't stop you," Austin said. "Just be careful. Renora can't afford to lose its king."

"It won't if I have anything to say about it," Coronam said, and he went toward the door. "Oh, and one more thing: The Mask mentioned sending someone to help you out here."

"Someone to help us?" Nitesco asked. "Do you know who?"

Coronam shrugged. "Hell if I know. He only mentioned they were from Nuts and Dolts. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must take my leave. I would like to spend some time with Opifexa and my son before I must travel again."

Coronam left, and Austin and Nitesco were again alone in the lobby. Nitesco sighed.

"After a year, we see him again, just for him to run off so soon," he said. "Pity."

"If he succeeds, we'll never have to worry about that again," Austin said. "Be optimistic! What else can we afford to be?"

Nitesco sighed, and smiled. "Ah, Austin," he said. "Where would I be without you?"

"Where would I be without you?" she asked. "But we don't have to think about that. It's almost ten o'clock. Have you had breakfast yet?"

Nitesco rubbed his empty stomach. "No," he said. "Breakfast sounds like an excellent idea."

"Then let's go," Austin said. "We have all day to worry about the war; it can wait."

"Let's go," Nitesco said. Together, they walked out of the inn and left for the mess hall.


	3. Chapter 3

**October 28, 10 ATC**

**Osiria Cathedral, Laevig Province, Kingdom of White Rose**

Jannis sat by the window of the meeting room, staring out at the setting sun. His morning had been one long slog of meeting with foreign dignitaries, all of whom gave Jannis their assurances that yes, their rulers were loyal and yes, they would forever be loyal. His afternoon was only a bit better, giving him the opportunity to meet with some of the minor lords, who were typically more gracious and native-born Church officials. Still boring, but it was an improvement compared to the clucking hens he dealt with in the morning. Now that the evening had rolled around, he was going to meet with the leaders of several influential blocs, and if they were anything like Link said they were, the meeting would at least be interesting.

Jannis heard a knock on the door. He sighed. "Who is it?"

"Link, sir," Link's muffled voice came from behind the door. "The dignitaries have arrived and will be here shortly."

"Come in," Jannis said. "Set out the refreshments. Negotiation is always more efficient on a full stomach."

Link obeyed, setting out a sizable platter of fruit, meat and cheese on the table, along with glasses and several casks of wine. Link finished setting the meal with a small dish of vegetables at either end of the table, and he pulled up a chair next to Jannis.

"I'm not looking forward to this," Link said.

"Their reputations precede them," Jannis said. "But there is a reason we're keeping an eye on them. Even if they are insufferable, better they be on our side than the enemy's."

Link nodded. "Perhaps," he said. "But I'd rather we not have to suffer them."

Jannis opened his mouth to respond, but a loud knock on the door alerted him to their guests' arrival. "They're here," his manservant's voice called out from behind the door.

"Excellent," Jannis said. The door opened, and the dignitaries entered.

First was General Generic, the de facto leader of the Lancaster government-in-exile. She wore a bright red uniform that marked her as an officer of Lancaster, and which complimented the auburn hair she kept up in a bun. Few women, especially in Junipera, could ever claim to have risen as far as she did, let alone in one of the Subreddit's most militaristic nations. Zissman had told Jannis about her in passing: that she was a ruthless, cunning woman, but Jannis had partially dismissed this as hyperbole. When she took her seat at the opposite end of the long table and stared Jannis straight in the eye, he realized he may have been mistaken.

Next was Inferno CLXIX, the boy-king of Crosshares and Pollination, wearing royal robes that were a size too big for him, and a princely crown that sat crooked on top of a head of unruly hair. After the untimely deaths of both his predecessors and the extinction of the main royal line, he was the last possible heir to the throne. A boy of only eleven, and the people of his nation already whispered of what was to be done when he inevitably died. Jannis could see the toll that took on the boy as he clambered up into his chair, eyes flitting about nervously, never quite coming to look at Jannis himself.

Taco IX, Lord of the Yaoi League and Count of Karma, took his seat at Generic's right. With his thin face and shock-white hair, he appeared much older than everyone else, and he wore spectacles that gave him an appearance of education. Unlike the others, Jannis had not heard much about Taco. He was the leader of a medium-sized League in Heroa's far south, a unity movement among the uncommon Yaoist religion, but besides that, he knew very little. Taco looked around the room, calm and taciturn, and Jannis was reminded of Zissman. He recognized that Taco could easily be his most dangerous opponent at the table.

Finally, Amelia, the Abbess of the famous Tiamat chapel, arrived. Unlike the others, she wore only a white robe, which complemented her kind face and plain black hair. Her cousin MacGregor was officially the Presbyter of Tiamat, and he was a competent administrator, but his somewhat manic nature meant that Amelia controlled most diplomacy of the nation. Tiamat was also the spearhead of a Straightist reform movement in Heroa, and Amelia was the face of that movement. She was calm, and her demeanor was gentle, but Jannis could sense a religious fervor in her that was much like his own.

"Are we missing someone?" Link asked. "I thought there were supposed to be five lords arriving."

"Ah, yes," Amelia said. "Horsea. He's coming later." Jannis had heard a bit about Horsea, but not much. He was the President of Springthyme, a true republic on the Heroan coast, and he was supposed to be a principled man. There were, however, rumors that he was not as principled or refined as he seemed. Jannis would be sure not to underestimate him.

"Later?" Jannis raised an eyebrow.

"He said he would be late," Taco said. "Hell if I know why." Jannis pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Of course," Jannis said. "Why would he arrive on time?"

"Let's just start without him," Link suggested.

"We can wait a bit, can't we?" Inferno asked. He shrank into his seat a little. "I mean, it wouldn't be fair to start without him."

"You mean it wouldn't be fair to start without someone between you and Jannis?" Generic demanded. She pointed to the empty chair between Inferno and Jannis, and Inferno shrank into his seat some more. "We shouldn't reward tardiness. Let's begin. He can deal with it later."

"Genny, you must calm down," Amelia said. Generic flared with anger.

"I told you not to call me that!" Generic yelled. Amelia raised her arms to placate Generic.

"Stop all this insolence!" Link demanded. His voice was muffled by his scarf, and both Amelia and Generic continued bickering.

"That's enough!" Jannis boomed. He slammed his fist onto the table, rattling the wine glasses and calling all attention back to him. "I will not tolerate this behavior. Do not forget you are guests here. Sit down and keep your peace. This is meant to be a diplomatic meeting."

"Sounds like I almost missed the fun," a voice called out from the doorway. Horsea had at last arrived. He looked much as Jannis expected; his face was young and his eyes were bright, his clothes and hair were tousled, and he wore a mischievous grin.

"You're late," Link said. Horsea only laughed.

"Fashionably late, my friend, fashionably late," he said. He sat down in the last open seat. "I was… attending to the lovely ladies of the nearby town."

"I hope it was worth it," Generic said, clearly irritated.

"It was," Horsea said. "Rest assured that they were… quite impressed." He patted his thigh and gave Generic a suggestive smile. She rolled her eyes.

"Good grief," Taco said. He grabbed an apple from the food plate and began munching on it.

"Enough of this," Jannis said. "We must behave like civilized people. Please, have some dinner first. Perhaps it will soothe your nerves."

"My nerves have already been soothed," Horsea said. He cracked a wry grin.

"Horsea, enough," Amelia chided. "There's a child at the table."

"I am not a child!" Inferno yelled.

"Can we not have dinner in peace?" Link asked. Their guests complied, filled their plates, and they ate in silence. Once a few minutes had passed, Jannis finally felt things had calmed enough that he could speak.

"The reason I have brought you all here today," he announced, "is to ensure that you, as my subjects, remain loyal. I have received reports of many seditious minor lords trying to work against me. I want it to be known that I will not tolerate anything of the sort."

"Are you so concerned?" Horsea asked. "I am surprised. I suppose we should be flattered as well."

"Don't be," Link said. Jannis glared at him before returning his attention to his guests.

"Jannis," Generic cooed. "Don't tell me you're scared."

"I am not scared," Jannis said. "But it is my responsibility to keep my realm secure and that includes ensuring none of my constituents are… disloyal."

"Are you accusing us?" Inferno asked. "Is that why you invited us here?" Jannis raised an eyebrow at him. Perhaps he underestimated this boy.

"Not at all," Jannis said. "I've checked in with several others already, and I plan to do so for the rest."

"But you've separated us from the rest of them," Generic observed. "You think we're dangerous."

Amelia laughed and poured herself a glass of wine. "Let's not jump to conclusions," she said. "Perhaps he just wanted to treat us to dinner."

"Let's not pretend this is anything besides what it is," Generic said. "I see the truth, Jannis. You can't afford to lose us."

"Mind your tongue, harlot," Link growled. "Jannis is the leader here, not you." Generic laughed.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Generic said. "I couldn't quite hear you. Take off the scarf and say that again."

Link narrowed his eyes, and he tugged his scarf tighter around his face. Taco laughed.

"Don't be so bashful, Link," Taco said. "It's not your fault King Vermilion was so angry about your conversion. He wasn't tolerant of other faiths, as I trust Jannis will be."

"I do not believe that faith can be forced," Jannis said. "But I do believe it can be taught."

"Wise words," Amelia commented.

"Much more enlightened than Zissman," Generic said. "He knows exactly what our support is worth."

"Are you trying to make a point?" Jannis said, knowing full well that she was.

"I think we all know what this is about," Generic said. "You're afraid that we'll sell out, or that we'll support the League, or at least ignore you and let things sort themselves out." She gestured to the food and the expensive wine. "So you presented us this, this feast, to woo us." She smiled and took a sip of wine. "But you'll have to try harder than this."

"Why should I have to?" Jannis asked. "Lancaster is occupied by Arkos. The only reason you're here today is because Inferno has let you and your men stay on his land. Without him, you'd just be a hothead running around with some thousand men, and if the Church is defeated, that's what you'll be anyway."

Generic narrowed her eyes but remained silent. Clearly, she had not expected Jannis to be so cogent. "A return to the status quo isn't all that Lancaster wants, though," she said. "I want more."

"I plan to partition Arkos," Jannis said. "Perhaps leave a province or two as a rump state. But Lancaster stands to regain what it lost and more from Arkos' defeat."

"And what of my nation?" Inferno piped up, his eagerness overcoming his timidity. "My cousin gave the Church much. Can I expect a reward as well?"

"I have not forgotten what your predecessor did for me," Jannis said. "There is much land for the taking across the Crack River, is there not? Emberald, Tauradonna. It could be yours." Inferno's eyes twinkled with ambition before he returned to his senses and nodded.

"Good prospects," he said quietly.

"And do you have such good prospects for us?" Taco said. "Surely you do not mean to surrender all of Villainia to a child."

"I am not a child!" Inferno protested. Taco glared at him and turned back to Jannis.

"The Yaoi religion is prevalent in Villainia too, though to the far south," Taco said. "And there are a few Heroan rebels who would make excellent tributaries," he added pointedly.

"I will consider your desires," Jannis said.

"And what of Straightism?" Amelia asked. "You will not abolish the Presbyterate, will you? Or try to convert us?"

"Missionary activity is one of our focuses," Link said.

"But we will consider a dispensation," Jannis added. "That goes for you as well, Taco."

"Good to know," Amelia said. Taco nodded silently as well and shoveled a spoonful of vegetables onto his plate.

"Surely you will not forget Springthyme," Horsea said. "Perhaps we could come to some trade agreement."

"When Junipera is under our control," Jannis said, "Springthyme stands to gain many oceanside trading ports."

"And what of the rivers?" Horsea asked.

"They are under Baroness Logic's purview," Jannis said. "Though I'm sure you could come to an agreement with her."

"With her?" Horsea asked. He scoffed. "I'd rather not find out how much she could cheat me out of."

"I'm sure you could convince her to sign a fair deal," Link said. "That benefits us all."

"Perhaps," Horsea said. The room fell silent for a moment. "Is that all? Have we reached an agreement?"

"I wish to make it known," Jannis said, "that everything that I have offered you is still up in the air. Your loyalty will be considered, but it is not enough. We are fighting a war, and if you want the full scope of what I have offered, then I suggest you commit your forces to the war as well."

"You need our military might?" Generic asked. Jannis could see a predatory glint in her eye. He did not like it in the slightest.

"Consider it an investment," he said. "A guarantee that you get everything you want from this. How else am I assured of your loyalty?"

"What if we have few soldiers to give?" Amelia asked.

"Then your diplomats and spies will do," Jannis said. "What I need is your resources, to accelerate our victory and get us all to what we want sooner rather than later."

"We will consider what you've said," Taco said. He stood to leave. "But it is getting quite dark. I think I will take my leave."

"And I as well," Generic said. "It has been most enlightening." Amelia, Horsea, and Inferno all stood to go with them as well, and Jannis nodded.

"Farewell, then," he said. "And remember, my friends. You have everything to gain from the Church. But you have everything to lose as well."

"We know," Inferno said.

"Farewell, Jannis," Amelia said. "This has been most productive."

"And informative," Horsea said. "Most informative indeed." He shut the door behind them, and Jannis breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was… interesting," he said. "The damn vultures."

"Do you seriously intend to give them so much?" Link asked. "That would make them major powers in their own right!"

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it," Jannis said. "For now, we will prepare. We will observe. If they want what we promised, they will obey."

"And if they don't?" Link asked. He loosened his scarf. "What happens then?"

Jannis sighed. He steepled his fingers and looked at the door they had left through. "Let us hope it doesn't," he said. He cast a sideways glance at Zissman's painting, hanging on the wall beside them. "For their sakes and ours."

* * *

**October 28, 10 ATC**

**Stray Cat Tavern, Rhodon City, Laevig Province, Kingdom of White Rose**

Anti and Rowing sat in the back room of the Stray Cat Tavern, waiting for their guests to arrive. The Stray Cat was one of Anti's favorite taverns in Rhodon City, always alight with smugglers or mercenaries willing to do a quick job sabotaging the League for ducats. Rowing, however, was less comfortable; he wrung his hands anxiously as they waited for Sphinx to arrive.

"I don't like being here," Rowing said. "Why do we have to be stuck in the seediest part of Rhodon City?"

"Relax," Anti said. "They know you're with me, so nobody's going to go after you as long as I'm around. And besides, nobody's going to hit a priest. Unless you do something to deserve it, of course."

"That's a relief," Rowing said sarcastically. Anti ignored him. She was still thinking about Sphinx, about getting him on board. Sphinx alone was a dangerous man, but with the resources and the connections he had, he could be an exceptional ally. Or enemy.

After a few more minutes, they heard a knock on the back door of the room: twice, once, twice, once. Anti walked over and opened the peephole, closed it, and then unlocked the door.

Two men entered, both clad in nondescript brown cloaks. As soon as Anti shut the door behind them, though, they shed the cloaks and cast them aside. One was an old man, dressed in rich black leather with silver trimming, and the sigil of Monochrome was embroidered on his collar in bright white. Despite his age, his hair was miraculously still jet black, as was his stubble, and he stood tall and proud. His compatriot was clearly related to him: despite being several decades younger, he appeared much the same. They had the same black hair, round faces and dull blue eyes, but most worrying was the glint of cunning Anti saw in both of them. Truly, they had not changed at all.

"Good evening, Baroness," the old man bowed. "Vicar. I am Viceroy Sphinx Black of Checkmate. This is my grandson Hozack. It's a pleasure to see you."

"The pleasure is ours," Anti said. She took a seat at the table. The others followed suit.

"We came to you to give you an offer," Rowing said. "A seat on Jannis's council. We are aware of your influence and your resources. We would like you to join us as we restore order."

"Me?" Sphinx said with false surprise. "Why me? I am subordinate to Grand Prince Onyzyon. It would be unbecoming for a vassal to sit at the table when his liege does not."

Sphinx spoke with a twist of maliciousness in his voice; he was testing Rowing. Anti opened her mouth to interrupt, but Hozack put a gloved hand on hers. She held her tongue.

"Onyzyon does not need to know about this arrangement," Rowing said. "Perhaps that's for the best. Our business is an unsavory one. There is no need to entangle others in it."

Sphinx laughed, and Anti saw a smile alight on Hozack's face as well. "You're cleverer than I would've expected from a priest. It seems I underestimated you. I apologize." He turned to Anti, and his joviality disappeared. "Of course, I am willing to discuss these things. Preferably with you, Anti, since you understand the value of our common interest." He sneered the words 'common interest' and Anti knew that she would have to continue alone.

"Quite right," Anti said, forcing a smile. "Quite right indeed." She turned to Rowing. "Rowing, would you please wait outside? See that we're not disturbed."

Rowing squinted at her, his eyes shifting suspiciously from her, to Sphinx, to Hozack. "Whatever for?"

"I feel like they are not comfortable with you here," she whispered. "With an Outlander. I hope you understand."

Rowing grunted in affirmation. He stood, gave a small bow, and walked out the back door. Once it was closed behind him, Hozack gave Anti a wry grin.

"Sending him away so soon?" he asked pointedly. "Is there something you don't want him to hear?"

"He said it best," Anti replied. "We must not entangle others in our affairs."

"And yet you have already done that," Sphinx said. Whatever pleasantries he had were now abandoned. "When you joined the Church in this mad crusade of theirs."

"I warned you," Anti said. "I told you about the Church's arrival. And I made it very clear that I was acting alone in this. That's why I left the organization."

"And yet we were dragged into it anyways," Sphinx said. "We allowed you to leave because we respected you and your influence. But then you used our investments and the resources we gifted you and poured them into the Church! And then you started a goddamned coup!" Sphinx sputtered and began coughing violently. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wheezed into it while Hozack patted him on the back.

"Calm yourself, grandfather," Hozack said. "It isn't good for your health." He turned to Anti. "Like it or not, you dragged all of us into this. And now you come back to us asking for our aid?"

"I am not to blame for all this," Anti said. "Inferno, Faker, even the Church on its own was powerful enough to get the ball rolling."

"Perhaps," Hozack said. "But at least we would've had the opportunity to shore up our assets before you brought the Church to _our_ doorstep."

"We can make things right," Anti said. "You can protect the order's _common interests_ and gain even more. Like it or not, the only way to keep the organization running now is through the Church. Do you think the League would allow you, known collaborators already, to walk free if they win? Not a chance. You have everything to gain by collaborating, and nothing to lose."

"There's always something to lose," Sphinx said at last, his fit having subsided. "But you make a good point."

"So that's it?" Anti asked. "You'll join us?"

"No," Sphinx said. "I will parlay. I want to know exactly what it is I'm getting myself into."

"Very well," Anti said. "That will have to do." She went over to the back door and opened it up. Rowing came back inside.

"I trust we had a productive meeting," he said. Anti glanced at Hozack and Sphinx, who had already donned their cloaks again. She slowly nodded.

"We will continue to parlay," Anti said uneasily. "But we have made good progress."

"That we have," Sphinx said, and he gave his most diplomatic smile. "I'm afraid we have to go now. We must journey back to Checkmate."

"I bid you gentlemen farewell," Rowing said. "Safe travels." As soon as Hozack and Sphinx had exited, Rowing shut the door behind them.

Out in the cold alleyway, Sphinx and Hozack began walking back to their inn, wrapping their cloaks close around them. Sphinx scoffed.

"That insufferable wench," Sphinx said. "Dragging us even more into this power grab of hers."

"Surely you don't mean to go along with it?" Hozack asked. Sphinx sighed.

"If at all possible, no," Sphinx said. "We would have to give up far too much autonomy, especially since Anti knows who we are. If a single word of our order reaches Jannis's ears…"

"Then do we commit ourselves to the League?" Hozack asked. Once again, Sphinx sighed.

"Damned if we do, damned if we don't," he said. "We cannot sit idly by anymore. The League may give us more freedom, but Nitesco has always had a penchant for moralizing. And democracy." He spat. "I fear he may be as dangerous as Jannis to our interests. We will have to see who will be more amenable to our long-term goals and side with them."

They crossed a dirt road, narrowly avoiding a cart of manure. "Why do we have to?" Hozack said. "Hear me out, grandfather. You said it yourself that we cannot sit idly by. Whatever happens, we need to find a way to guarantee our security after the war dies down. Under Jannis, there's no way that can happen."

"Then what do you suggest?" Sphinx asked.

"That we funnel information to the League," Hozack said. "We've become too passive in recent years. Having a hand in greater politics can be good for us."

"You were too young to remember Celtic's revolt, then," Sphinx said. "We supported him because we had the opportunity to expand our horizons, but that backfired. It crippled us. Only recently have we regained our losses. It's too risky to play politics again!"

They stopped outside the entrance of their tavern. Hozack leaned closer to ensure they were not heard.

"Greater risk for greater reward," he quipped. "If Jannis wins, we know what happens. He takes over, finally institutes his order, and our home and allies become his puppets. But if the League wins, things are different. The balance of power has been changed. There will be a vacuum to fill. Why not step in? Why should we settle for protecting our common interests when we can expand them?"

Despite himself, Sphinx chuckled. He placed a hand on his grandson's shoulder. "You're an ambitious little shit," he said. "I've trained you well." He nodded and beckoned for Hozack to follow him inside the inn. "I'll think it over. In the meantime, do you know when the Mask will arrive in Anderssen?"

"The first of November," Hozack replied. Sphinx grinned.

"Good. We'll leave after breakfast tomorrow," he said. He grabbed the pendant in his pocket, an image of a small, cat-like eye, and he smiled.

"Everything is falling into place."


	4. Chapter 4

**November 1, 10 ATC**

**Port Anderssen, Viceroyalty of Checkmate, Principality of Monochrome**

When Coronam and the Mask arrived in Port Anderssen, they were expecting no welcome. They knew that fanfare would draw much unneeded attention. But they expected something, anything. An escort at least, to take them unnoticed through unfamiliar territory. When they arrived at port and found nobody at all had come to meet them, they were chagrined.

"Do you see anyone?" Coronam asked. He tried to whisper, but it came out in a breathy, but noticeable voice. The Mask sighed.

"If I did, I would point them out, wouldn't I?" he responded. "And for both of our sakes, can you learn how to whisper?"

Coronam grumbled. "Don't get your feathers all ruffled," he said. "I'm not the one wearing a very conspicuous mask. You know you can take that off anytime."

"I'd really rather not," the Mask said.

Coronam huffed. "If you insist."

After a few more moments, the dock emptied of the other passengers, leaving the pair alone on the docks. Once they were alone, a man emerged from the shadows, wearing a dark purple cloak.

"Can we help you?" Coronam said. His hand instinctively went to his sword. The cloaked figure laughed, betraying a deep baritone voice.

"So skittish," he commented. "Relax. I am a friend." The man pulled back his hood, revealing a youthful face and a head of jet black hair. The Mask began laughing.

"Ah, Hozack, I presume," the Mask said. "Forgive him. He is not used to this kind of work."

"You already know my name?" Hozack asked.

"Well, now I do," the Mask said, "but I had a feeling. You're the spitting image of your grandfather."

"He'd be flattered to hear that," Hozack said, and he smiled. "Ah, but where are my manners?" He extended a hand to Coronam. "King Coronam, I presume?"

"You presume correctly," Coronam said, and he shook Hozack's hand. "But we had best get going. I don't want negotiations to take all night."

"I doubt they will, but, as you please," Hozack said. Here, follow me. I know a quicker way to get to the mansion."

Hozack led them down the riverbank, to what appeared to be a sewer grate. As they approached, Coronam wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"You mean to take us through the sewers?" he asked. Hozack laughed and shook his head.

"It may seem that way, but no," Hozack said. "I certainly can't be seen with two of the Church's most wanted criminals. Even so, I wouldn't drag you or myself through sewers." He moved his hands around the grate, looking for the right spot, and found it. He twisted the fourth bar, and the grate swung open like a door. Hozack threw his arms up in the air, as if awaiting applause.

"If it isn't sewers, what is it?" the Mask asked. They walked through, and Hozack closed the grate behind them.

"They are escape tunnels," Hozack said. "Disguised as sewer runoffs."

"And you would show these to outsiders?" the Mask asked. As they rounded a corner, Coronam scanned the tunnels behind them, making sure that they would not be ambushed.

Hozack chuckled yet again. "Oh, I don't object to it," he said. "We have two dozen all around my grandfather's estate. You two knowing about one or two won't make him or me lose any sleep."

"That's a comfort," the Mask replied. Coronam continued scanning other tunnels for possible ambushers. Hozack ignored their suspicion, and they continued the rest of the way in silence.

After some time, they emerged from a mausoleum. From what they could see of their surroundings, they were inside a walled compound, in the middle of a large courtyard. Finely trimmed shrubberies and a few benches lined the dirt paths, and they could see the torchlight of the mansion patrolmen through the darkness. Hozack closed the door of the mausoleum entrance behind him and gestured to the mansion around them.

"Welcome," Hozack announced, "to Alekhine Manor."

"It's much more modest than I expected from a Viceroy," Coronam said. "That's a compliment, mind you."

"Tell that to my grandfather," Hozack said. "I didn't build the place. Come, he's waiting for us."

The pair followed Hozack through the gardens and into the manor. The manor was as modest as the courtyard, but nothing to scoff at. Tasteful portraits of old family members adorned the walls, and most of the paint had a silver trim to it, but other than that, nothing in particular drew their attention.

They arrived in a foyer, which was more finely decorated than the hallways. Hozack gestured to the velvet ottoman in front of a warm fire.

"Take a seat, gentlemen," he said. "We'll be with you shortly." He went down a hall, leaving Coronam and the Mask in front of the fireplace.

"They're quite hospitable," Coronam said. He took a seat on the ottoman and crossed his legs. "Nice of them to set out a fire for us. It's damn cold outside."

"I find them suspicious," the Mask said. He took a seat next to Coronam. "Hozack is trying too hard."

"You're too cynical," Coronam said.

"You aren't suspicious?" the Mask asked. "I would've figured that a ruler like you would always be alert. How else can you guarantee your safety?"

"Alert, yes," Coronam said. "But not suspicious. If I'm suspicious of every ally I have, how can I ever make friends? Trust is the heart of leadership; trust in your allies and trust in your subordinates. It took me a long time to learn that lesson, but I'm better for it."

The Mask turned away and looked at the fire. "Perhaps," he muttered.

A moment later, a door opened and they heard conversation from down the hall. Both Coronam and the Mask looked down the hallway and saw three men coming down the hall.

"—invest in this," one said as he came into earshot. He was tall and had slick blonde hair and a goatee to match. "Too much risk, especially for me."

"Who is that?" Coronam asked.

"Topiary Moogle," the Mask answered. "A banker from Eclipse. His family has run the state's banks for generations. He's the head of the family now."

Another man came out from behind him. He was shorter, with multiple scars and an eyepatch decorating his hairless head. "Well, there's no other way for me," he said, speaking with an unfamiliar accent. "The current laws are choking my trade routes. If this keeps up, I'll die a pauper!"

"And him?" Coronam asked again.

"Yargama Frag," the Mask answered. "He's from the riverlands out east, beyond the caldera. He controls the trade of foreign goods in and out of the Subreddit."

Coronam squinted. "What's he doing here, then?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," the Mask said.

Finally, as they walked into the room, a third man emerged from the group. He looked like Hozack, though several decades older, and he carried himself with a cunning finesse. Coronam didn't have to ask; they both knew it was Sphinx.

"Gentlemen, please," Sphinx said. "I will find a way to reconcile both of your interests. In the meantime, go to the guest quarters and get some rest." He turned to Coronam and the Mask. "I have other business to attend to."

"As you wish," Topiary said. He and Yargama Frag walked out the door without another word or glance in the visitors' direction. As the door closed behind them, Sphinx looked at them and smiled.

"My friends, you are finally here," he said. "I am sorry if I kept you waiting. Please, come with me to my office."

"Much obliged," Coronam said. He and the Mask walked down the hall behind Sphinx and turned into a spacious office. In the center was a beautiful mahogany desk with four chairs around it, and on the sides of the room were numerous cabinets and bookshelves. Two large windows illuminated the room with moonlight and cast an eerie shadow on Sphinx's face. Sphinx took a seat at his desk and beckoned for his guests to do the same.

"Now gentlemen," he said. "I am glad you are here. Shall we continue with the pleasantries or shall we cut to the chase?"

At that moment, Hozack closed the doors of the room behind them, shrouding the room in darkness. The Mask glanced at Coronam and then back to Sphinx.

"Cut to the chase?" the Mask said. "How do you mean?"

"You have come to us with a proposition of an alliance, yes?" Sphinx asked. Hozack came up and stood behind them. "Well, we have already made up our minds."

"Are you going to capture us?" Coronam asked. "I'm required to ask, at this point."

Sphinx merely laughed. "Oh, heavens no! Did I give that impression?" He leaned back in his chair, a mischievous smile on his face. "If I wanted to do that, I had plenty of opportunities to do so. At the docks, in the tunnels, in the gardens. Even right now, if I wanted to. But I have no such intent."

"Then what do you intend?" the Mask asked. He was clearly irritated with Sphinx's games.

"To support you," Hozack interrupted. Sphinx sighed.

"Hozack, please," he said. "Don't get ahead of yourself." He turned back to his visitors. "We are willing to lend you our help, of course, but we will need some things in return."

Coronam shifted in his seat. "Such as?"

"Immunity," Sphinx said. "For my cooperation with the regime."

"What cooperation?" the Mask asked. "It was Onyzyon who pledged to Inferno, not you."

"That is true," Sphinx said. He steepled his fingers. "But recently I have received a special invitation to Jannis's court. I am part of his inner circle now."

"His inner circle?" Coronam asked, now clearly intrigued. "That's excellent. You can give us targets, strategies, opportunities for—"

"Slow down," Sphinx said. "That can all be yours, yes, but I need you to promise me what I ask for." Coronam nodded and sat back down.

"As I was saying, I need immunity. And I need a guarantee that Nitesco will not try to democratize any part of Monochrome. He can have Onyzyon and his family, but I need Monochrome whole."

"So that you can take it over when he is imprisoned," the Mask observed. Sphinx shrugged.

"Perhaps," he said. "But my further interests are none of your concern. All I need you to agree to are those two things. Anything else I decide I want, I will negotiate with Nitesco."

"And in exchange," Coronam said, "you will provide us with spies, information, and military access."

"Of course," Sphinx said. "And a few of my troops as well, but not enough for Onyzyon to notice their absence. So, do we have a deal?"

"One more thing," the Mask said. "I would like your grandson to accompany us."

Hozack and Sphinx exchanged glances. "Whatever for?" Hozack asked.

"Well," the Mask said. "I find that communication is so much easier when you have somebody who knows what they're doing with you. Hozack should be well acquainted with your grandfather's contacts, yes?"

"That is a fair assumption," Hozack said tersely.

"I would like someone from your house to accompany us, to ensure that the resources you lend us operate at maximum efficiency. I would say you, Sphinx, but you must keep up appearances with Jannis, and I assume that Hozack's parents are…"

"Dead," Hozack confirmed. The Mask nodded.

"A pity. But that leaves only him to come along." He looked from Hozack to Sphinx, scrutinizing them.

"Coronam?" Sphinx asked. Coronam nodded.

"I like that idea," he said softly. "I feel it would guarantee the full cooperation of your resources."

"I am willing to go, grandfather," Hozack said. "Have no fear. I will make sure everything runs smoothly."

"As you please," Sphinx said. "Now, if that's all we have to discuss?"

"That is all," Coronam said. "I believe my associate has contacts in this city that will escort Hozack to where he needs to be."

"And where would that be?" Hozack asked.

"Enabler," the Mask said. "I will send you to Contramundi. You will coordinate with Austin and Nitesco by falcon. Rest assured that Contramundi has the resources to do that."

"And where will you gentlemen go now?" Hozack asked.

"Let us worry about that," the Mask said. "In the meantime, you should come with us. Show us the best places in town."

"If you insist," Hozack said. He turned to Sphinx and gave a small bow. "Farewell, grandfather,"

"Goodbye, Hozack," Sphinx said. "Mask. Coronam. It's been a productive meeting."

"For us both," Coronam said. "Good night, Viceroy. It's been a pleasure." Hozack was escorted out by the Mask and Coronam, and Sphinx was left alone in his office.

He heard the bookshelf in the back corner of his office creak and groan before the secret door behind it finally opened. Topiary Moogle and Yargama Frag emerged, both wearing concerned expressions.

"They are more astute than we estimated," Topiary said. He stroked his goatee. "Perhaps gambling on them is a mistake."

"The die is cast," Yargama commented. "We must follow through."

"Yargama is right," Sphinx said. "We cannot back out now. My grandson is committed."

"We could've played our hand better," Topiary said. Yargama grumbled.

"We all stand to benefit from this," Yargama said. "This is in our common interests. Just because your banks would take a hit doesn't mean it isn't a good plan."

Topiary huffed. "That's not what I'm—"

"Stop arguing," Sphinx said. "The decision's been made." He paused. "Go ahead, Mr. Moogle. You sound like you have something to add."

"We've secured the League's support," Topiary said. "But unless we can cripple the Church all at once, it will not matter. Can you immobilize the Church's leaders?"

"I can," Sphinx said. "Yargama, please inform Representative Psiah to limit the Church leaders' movements in Bumblebee. Make it as difficult as possible for them to travel. An immobile leadership is a vulnerable leadership."

"As you command," Yargama said.

"And what would you have me do?" Topiary asked.

"Return to Eclipse," Sphinx said. "Continue investing. Keep the money flowing. Let me handle the rest."

"As you wish, my lord," Topiary said. Sphinx beckoned for them to leave, and they walked into the secret passage, closing the door behind them and leaving Sphinx with his thoughts.

* * *

**November 2, 10 ATC**

**Crouchback Village, Occupied Lancaster**

Austin paced back and forth while watching her men do drills. Her soldiers danced back and forth across the field, swinging their axes and swords and stabbing their spears. They ducked and rolled, swung and riposted. And despite the fact that she had been drilling them nonstop since Coronam arrived, they were still sloppy and inefficient.

On the dirt path behind her, she heard footsteps. Nitesco walked up beside her and stopped to watch the drills.

"How goes it?" he asked, knowing full well how badly it was going. Austin shook her head as a soldier in the field accidentally speared the ground on one of his thrusts.

"They've been complacent for too long," Austin said. "They've been manning garrisons and doing patrols, sure. But they aren't prepared for battle yet."

"Discipline was always going to be a problem," Nitesco said. "Our allies took all the troops that survived to protect their own borders. The ones that stayed were generally not the ones they wanted."

"I know that," Austin said. "But—still! Our plans mean nothing if we don't have the capability of executing them."

"Don't string yourself out," Nitesco gently chided. He patted her on the shoulder. "We'll find a way. And if Coronam and the Mask get us allies, we may not need our own soldiers to bolster our fronts."

"Yes," Austin sighed. "I suppose."

"Come on, "Nitesco said. "Give them a ten minute break and let's go get something to drink. I'm parched."

"Alright," Austin said. She turned to the field of soldiers. "Ten minute break, all of you! Nobody try and sneak out, either, I'm taking a head count when I get back!"

The soldiers breathed a sigh of relief and set down their weapons as Austin and Nitesco walked away. Nitesco shook his head.

"Perhaps you're right about the discipline," Nitesco said.

Austin chuckled. "I'm always right, aren't I?"

"Don't push it," Nitesco said, but he laughed.

When they arrived at the storehouse where the drinks were kept, they were surprised to see that Kazehh was already there. He was sitting on a crate in front of the door, sipping a cask of mead.

"Kazehh?" Nitesco asked. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be guarding Opifexa and Alfonse?"

"I am," Kazehh said, and he sipped his mead with a smug smile. "They're both inside, talking with some man from Nuts and Dolts."

"Nuts and Dolts?" Austin asked. Kazehh nodded.

"He said to tell you that the Mask contacted him," Kazehh explained. "But that's all. The rest you can discuss with him."

"Thanks, Kazehh," Nitesco said. "Don't get too drunk; you still have a job to do."

"Too drunk?" Kazehh asked. He drained the cask of mead and began on another. "Not after one or two. I have a job to do, like you said."

"Of course," Austin muttered. She and Nitesco entered the storehouse and saw Opifexa and Alfonse sitting and talking to a man neither of them knew. He was tall and wore heavy armor. His face was serious, and his brown hair was matted against his head. When Austin and Nitesco came into the room, he ran his hand along his poorly shaved face and leaned back in this chair.

"It seems I finally get to meet our commanders," the man said. "Forgive me for not coming to you directly. I thought I would get to know this little outpost first."

Austin pursed her lips. "And who might you be?"

"I am Various," the man said, flourishing his hand dramatically. "And I have been sent to help you by our mutual friend, the Mask."

"Quite a few interesting war stories," Opifexa said. "Did you know he fought in the Third Shipping War?"

"Will you tell us more stories another time?" Alfonse asked. Various, despite himself, grinned.

"Sure," he said. "But I have to work now. It's been a pleasure, both of you." He gave a small bow to Opifexa and Alfonse before walking out.

"Are you coming?" he barked to Austin and Nitesco. Nitesco groaned and followed, beckoning for Austin to follow too.

"So," Austin said. "You fought in the Third Shipping War."

"I did indeed," Various said with a hint of pride. "Twenty-six years ago, I fought my first battle."

"And which battle was that?" Nitesco said. "As far as I know, there were few battles in Nuts and Dolts until the end of the war."

"Oh, there were a few on the borders," Various said. "Around the middle of the war, King Inferno CLXV decided to try and invade my country. At the time I was seventeen years old, looking forward to the day I could enlist. Turns out, the war came to me."

"How did that happen?" Austin asked.

"The Crossharish forces struck first at my hometown, Andruid. We sat between a large ridge and a river, so if they were to resist being flanked, they needed to take us first. Unfortunately, most of the men were away in the war, so I was one of the few fit fighters there.

"When a messenger came and informed us that the forces were encroaching on our town, there was a panic. The nearest garrison could not mobilize in time to help us. When the mayor heard, he locked himself in his house and refused to come out. So I took matters into my own hands. I helped a few other men round up as many men as we could. We convinced them that we needed to stand together to have any hope of survival, and so we built barricades around the town, we practiced defensive strategies, and we stockpiled as many supplies as we could. When the invaders finally came, we were ready."

"And you repulsed the legions of men sent to invade?" Austin asked, clearly skeptical. Various cocked his head and smirked.

"Believe it or not, we did," he said triumphantly. "For two weeks, we held out, until the garrison finally arrived. And since I was the only surviving leader of this effort, I was declared a war hero."

"And now you're back from retirement?" Nitesco asked. "What for?"

"Because people like Jannis and Zissman are all pieces of shit," Various declared. "They are a threat to peace and a threat to our freedom. Also, the Mask promised me I'd get the first pick of the Church treasury."

Austin sighed. "I'm glad he consulted us on this."

Various smirked. "Relax, I'm only taking what would look good on my mantle. It's just for trophies and keepsakes."

"But why you?" Nitesco asked. "Not to sound rude, but what can you do for us that any other old war hero can't?"

"I'm forty-three," Various said, chagrined. "I am not that old. And besides, instilling discipline is one of my skills."

"Discipline?" Austin asked.

They rounded a corner and saw that the soldiers they had been drilling were now languishing in the fields. Various pointed at the soldiers disappointedly.

"There," he said. "You run a leaky ship, I see."

"We see your point," Nitesco said. "We'd be happy to let you take over drilling the men while we plan."

"Then that is what I shall do," Various said. "I look forward to working with you. I sense this will be a very… interesting partnership." He turned his attention to the field and began bearing down on the lazy soldiers. Almost as soon as he arrived, his demeanor completely changed: he began cursing and belittling anyone in sight, and the soldiers hastily took up their weapons and resumed drilling on his command.

"Well, he certainly has a knack for, uh, instruction," Nitesco said.

"Bit of a prick," Austin commented.

"Perhaps," Nitesco said. "But at least he's on our side now."

"Do you think having him around will help?" Austin asked. She turned to look at Nitesco. "Do you think he'll help us pull an invasion of the Church off?"

"Well, he certainly can't hurt," Nitesco said. "Come on. Let's leave him to his work. We have work of our own to do."

"I suppose," Austin said. She glanced one more time at Various and the soldiers in the field before turning to follow Nitesco.


	5. Chapter 5

**November 6, 10 ATC**

**Town of Trapiche, State of Carat, Kingdom of Emberald**

As the sloop drifted up to the docks, Coronam tied the last of the remaining free rope to the knobs. The Mask steered them through the shallow waters into an open space in the docks, praying that the boat would slow in time. Luckily, it did, and the ship came to a gentle stop just before it would've struck the shore. Coronam began tying the boat to the dock while the Mask stepped off.

"Ah, Trapiche," he said. He stretched his arms up into the cloudy night sky. "It's been a while since I've been here."

"You've been to Emberald before?" Coronam asked. He finished his knot and stepped onto the dock. "I was under the impression that they were very hard on crime here."

"Oh, believe me," the Mask said. "I'm aware. I stayed in Trapiche for a time some twenty years ago."

"The priests let you do that?" Coronam asked.

The Mask shrugged. "It was a… unique arrangement. One that largely has not changed."

The pair began walking through the little settlement. It was more like a village, with barely a hundred people to take care of it, but it was enough to make Coronam uneasy. He nervously glanced about as the passersby, all dressed in the dark green and black of the Emberaldian extremists, cast hostile glances in their direction.

"Are you sure it's safe for us here?" Coronam asked.

"Don't let them ruffle your feathers," the Mask said. "They like to glare and growl, but as long as you don't interrupt service or break any laws, they're content to leave you be."

"How do you know them?" Coronam asked. The Mask sighed.

"I met them some time ago," he said. "A few years after the Treaty of the Confluence was signed, and Celtic's revolt was ended. The extremists had been driven out of power and the moderate Yurists were trying to wipe them out. I bribed government officials to overlook a few colonies, and in exchange, they provide food, bedding, and a place to hide when my agents come through here."

"Very charitable of you," Coronam said. He shifted uneasily as two more villagers glared at him.

"It was the least I could do," the Mask said.

As they walked into the town square, a man approached them. He wore a wolf skull over his face, engraved with a large "Y" in the middle of its forehead.

"Foreigners," the man said as he approached them. They stopped a few feet from each other, and the pair looked him over. Finally, the Mask bowed.

"Elder," he said. "It has been some time."

"Not long enough," the elder said. The wolf mask bobbed up and down as he spoke. "I assume you are here for the other foreigners?"

"They are already here?" Coronam asked. The elder nodded.

"Five of them, in the town hall," the elder said. "You may meet with them and stay the night here. But I want all of you gone by morning."

"I would have it no other way," the Mask said. The elder grumbled and walked away.

"Quite a pleasant fellow," Coronam said as the elder walked out of earshot.

"He barks a good deal," the Mask said, "but he won't bite."

"And the mask he wore," Coronam said. "Was that _the_ mask?"

"Yes indeed," the Mask said. "I pilfered it from the ruins of Celtic's castle. It sold for a very hefty sum."

"I'm sure it did," Coronam said. They continued the rest of the way in silence.

When they reached the town hall, they could already hear the bickering from outside. Coronam sighed and reached for the door.

"Ready?" he asked.

The Mask shrugged. "As I'll ever be."

Coronam flung the door open, and instantly the volume of the room increased tenfold. Only seven men and women in a single room, and somehow they were louder than the rest of the village outside. Coronam sighed and shut the door behind him.

If the assembled leaders noticed their arrival, they gave no sign of it. At the table were five of the most important leaders in the Subreddit: Abbess Amelia, King Inferno CLXIX, General Generic, President Horsea, and Lord Taco. Coronam and the Mask sighed at the same time, knowing controlling the room would be an uphill battle.

"Quiet, quiet!" Coronam demanded. The room fell into a chagrined silence. "We have arrived."

"It's about time!" Generic exclaimed. "We've been waiting here an hour!"

"You've used that time wisely, I see," the Mask said. Generic twitched.

"At least Jannis was on time," she shot back. Across the table from her, Taco grunted.

"You were supposed to keep that quiet," he hissed.

"There was no need," the Mask said. "We already knew."

"You were spying on us," Inferno said.

"Not spying," Coronam said. "We just have an… undisclosed source."

"What a wonderful start to our little meeting," Horsea said.

"Gentlemen, please," Amelia said. "Clearly we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Why don't we just take a step back and start from the beginning?"

"Very well," Coronam said. "I'm King Coronam of Renora, and this is—"

"We didn't come here for a meet-and-greet," Taco said. "Just get on with it."

"There's no need to be rude, Taco," Horsea said. "It's just pleasantries."

"I didn't come here for pleasantries," Generic said. "I came here for an offer. Skip to the part where I benefit from this."

Coronam and the Mask exchanged weary glances, and Coronam sighed. "I had a whole speech prepared," Coronam grumbled.

"I'm sure it was lovely," Amelia said.

"And boring," Inferno muttered. Coronam glared at him.

"You want to know how you can benefit from this?" Coronam asked. "Very well. You can get rid of Jannis and his pawns. You can get rid of the oversight that's strangling your nations. You can act with agency instead of being puppets to some Outlander!"

"Yes, yes, yes. Oh my god," Generic said. "I know all that. That's not what we're asking. How do _we_ benefit from this?"

"You benefit by getting your ancestral lands back," the Mask said. "Is that not obvious?"

"Jannis has promised us Arkos," Generic replied, crossing her arms. "Can you promise us more?"

"Has Jannis _promised_ you Arkos, or did he _offer_ you Arkos?" Coronam asked. Generic opened her mouth to respond but was struck by a moment of indecision. Horsea laughed.

"Looks like you stumped her," Horsea said, and he chuckled. Generic glared at him and gestured to Coronam to continue.

"He may have said Arkos would be yours," Coronam said, "and that would make you a superpower."

"So why not take the deal?" Generic asked.

The Mask shook his head. "Because it would make you too powerful for him. Do you really think that Jannis would just hand over that much power to some of his most dangerous subjects? Do you really think he would empower any of you that much?" The leaders exchanged uncertain glances.

"Regardless of what he will and will not give us," Amelia said, "the fact remains that he is in power and you are not. Would you make such a gamble, with so much at stake?"

"With Nitesco and Austin at the helm," Coronam said, "yes, I would. If nothing else, they are more trustworthy than Jannis."

"Austin killed my cousin," Inferno said spitefully. "And you were there too, if I remember," he added pointedly, and he glared at Coronam."

"And Nitesco is far too much of a moralizer for my tastes," Taco said. "Always going on about civic duty and virtue and all that. And his obsession with democracy! Even if we support him, I fear he would push his reforms on us like he did to Bumblebee and Guns N' Roses."

"He's not that zealous. You would rather take your chances with Jannis?" the Mask asked.

Taco sighed. "In this case, I would, yes. I gain far more from his victory than yours: Jannis can offer me numerous new vassals in Villainia and Heroa. I know you cannot match that."

"I trust you will say nothing of this meeting, then," the Mask said. "I doubt Jannis would appreciate it if he found out you were here." He paused to look around the table. "_Any_ of you," he added.

"You've made your point," Horsea said. "And I've reached my decision: I'll join with you."

"What?" Amelia exclaimed.

"You're joining them?" Generic asked. "Why?"

"Because I value trust," Horsea said. "Maybe it's because I'm from a democratic nation myself, but I'd rather have a trustworthy ally than a powerful one. And I think we all know that Jannis is not a trustworthy man. None of these Outlanders are."

"To value trust we must be trustworthy ourselves," Amelia said. "And we've already sworn allegiance to the Church, remember?"

"You can't be serious!" Coronam said. "You cut a deal with those vipers?"

"Not like we had a choice," Horsea interrupted.

"Shush!" Amelia said. "The point is, I've already chosen my side. Out of respect for you and for your allies, I will not interfere in your war with the Church, but that is all the aid I will give you."

"Inferno?" the Mask asked. "What say you?"

"I cannot join," Inferno said. He looked Coronam in the eye. "In Pollinational culture, family is everything. An insult to one is an insult to all. You killed my cousin. You have insulted my family."

"I killed your cousin out of necessity," Coronam said. "I wish I didn't have to, but I don't regret it."

"And that is why we cannot join," Inferno said. "Even if you hadn't, I wouldn't. You can make vague promises and talk about what's good and just all you like, but that doesn't benefit anyone."

"You're a real pain in the ass, aren't you kid?" the Mask said. Inferno grimaced.

"I am not a child," he growled. Taco rolled his eyes.

"Not this again," he muttered.

"Be considerate, Taco," Amelia said.

"With all due respect," Coronam said, "There is still one more person I'm waiting to hear from."

All eyes at the table turned to Generic. Her hands were folded in front of her, and she looked uncharacteristically uncertain. At last, she nodded and looked up at Coronam.

"I have ambition," Generic said, "and I have a nation to guide. I'd rather it grow free than under a foreign yoke." She nodded, and her resolve returned to her eyes. "Fuck the Church. I'll throw in with you."

Coronam and the Mask smiled. "Excellent," Coronam said. "Generic, Horsea, might I ask you to stay while we discuss what is to be done?"

"Of course," Horsea said.

"The rest of you," the Mask said, "may leave. Though I trust you will keep all of these things to yourselves."

"We aren't that stupid," Inferno said.

"Trust me, I would very much like to see how this plays out," Taco said. "We'll keep quiet."

"Best of luck," Amelia said, and she followed Taco and Inferno out the door. The Mask shut the door behind them and returned to his seat.

"Now," Coronam said, turning to their new allies. "We have much to discuss."

* * *

**November 12, 10 ATC**

**Crouchback Village, Occupied Lancaster**

Austin paced along the ridge watching the soldiers in Crouchback mull about in the evening sun. In the fields, she could see Various drilling the men, who were now moving in tightly-knit, if still crooked rows. Despite his flippancy, Various had proven to be a valuable asset.

She heard the crunch of the dirt road behind her and, as she turned around, saw Nitesco. In his hand was a long, rolled-up paper.

"Is that from Coronam?" she asked. Nitesco nodded.

"Yes indeed," he said. "According to him, he and the Mask have acquired the friendship of Lancaster-in-exile, Checkmate and Springthyme."

"That doesn't sound like much," Austin said.

"But Lancaster has a powerful army," Nitesco said, "and Springthyme is rich enough to pay for supplies and mercenaries. Viceroy Sphinx reportedly has connections in Jannis's court too. It gives us a boost, at least."

"But is it enough?" Austin asked.

"It's what we have," Nitesco said. He paused. "But that's not what this is about, is it?"

"No," Austin admitted. She found she could not meet his eyes. "I'm anxious."

"Whatever for?" Nitesco asked.

Austin paused. "Our assault. I don't…" She sighed. "I don't want it to fall apart again. Like it did at Fort Bombus."

"Oh, Austin," Nitesco said. He put a hand on her shoulder. "We've been over that. It's not your fault."

"I know," Austin said. She sighed shakily. "I know. But this time, this time has to be different! Because what happens if it isn't?"

"It won't be," Nitesco said. "Because this time, the Church is weakened. Before, they had Zissman, and before, they hadn't been defeated. Even if we, and I mean _we_, lost, the Church is vulnerable now. Their instability has been exposed. And with the aid we're about to get, there's no doubt we can win if we take the right steps."

"I hope you're right," Austin said.

"I know I'm right," Nitesco said. "Do you believe me?"

"I suppose," Austin said. "It'll get better as we put things to paper."

"That's good to hear," Nitesco said. They stood there for a moment, looking up at the sky, and they saw a falcon circling above them.

"That bird's been circling for a while," Nitesco said. "You think it's hunting?"

"No," Austin replied. "The falcons stick to the lowlands near here, where all the rabbits are. It wouldn't be hunting." She paused. "Perhaps…" She trailed off.

"What's wrong?" Nitesco said.

"I want to try something," Austin said. She crooked her arm and held it out, as a falconer would. The bird began circling closer and closer to the ground, and finally broke off to dive at Austin.

"Whoa!" Austin exclaimed. The bird flew in at full speed and collided with Austin's leather bracer, digging its talons in. Austin stumbled backward but regained her balance, and the falcon remained firmly gripped to her bracer.

"He's a little bastard, isn't he?" Nitesco said. The falcon fluttered its wings and dislodged its talons from the bracer, and Austin noticed a thick wad of paper tied to its foot.

"Probably a young one," Austin said. "They're a little more forceful." She untied the paper and handed it to Nitesco, who unfolded it.

"What's it say? Who's it from?" Austin asked.

"Um, Contramundi," Nitesco said. "Here's what it says: my dear friends Austin and Nitesco. I have received in my company a young man by the name of Hozack as an emissary from Checkmate. His grandfather Sphinx has, by his account and by message from Coronam, pledged his assistance to us. He has made it so that our soldiers can pass unmolested through Checkmate and into Enablerish territory, and from there to the Church's base of operations. I advise you move quickly before we miss this opportunity. Sincerely, your dearest friend and etc., Contramundi."

"Hozack, huh?" Austin asked. "Funny name."

"He's from a powerful family," Nitesco said. "And if he's half as clever as his grandfather, he'll be a valuable ally."

"I certainly hope so," Austin said. She shook her arm, and the falcon took off, beginning to circle in the sky above them again. Nitesco smiled and pocketed the paper.

"Relax. Everything is under control," Nitesco said.

"Sir!" A soldier called. Austin and Nitesco looked down the ridge to see a soldier standing below them. "We have arrivals!"

"From where?" Austin asked.

"Arkos," the soldier yelled. "Three of them, and General Zealander's among them!"

"Vulpix is here," Nitesco said. "That's good."

"Let's go down and see them then," Austin said. "Soldier! You're dismissed! Return to your duties!"

Austin and Nitesco descended the ridge and went into the town, only to be stopped by an argument in the middle of the road. Three men, dressed in crimson uniforms, were standing around a clearly angry Various. One of them turned and recognized Austin and Nitesco.

"Zealander!" Austin yelled. Vulpix smiled and broke away from the group. Austin pulled him into a hug.

"Austin! It's been too long!" Vulpix laughed as Austin released him from her hug. "And Nitesco! Good to see you're in good health." He smiled and went over to hug Nitesco. "How are things?"

"They're coming along," Nitesco said. He looked over Vulpix's shoulder and pointed at Various. "Do your compatriots have a problem with him?"

"Oh, those two," Vulpix said. "Admiral Bluewhale is the tall one. General Vaniellis is the one with the short hair. They're having a… discussion about your soldiers' training."

"The point is," Bluewhale said, raising his voice dramatically," that your soldiers are sloppy and undisciplined. There's no disputing that."

"That's the point of training, you uppity knuckle dragger," Various retorted. "To improve! I suppose you slid out of the womb a seasoned veteran, huh?"

"Still a better soldier than the farmhands you have here," Bluewhale said. Vaniellis stepped in between them.

"The point is," Vaniellis said, "that your men have much training to do. We can help with that."

"Are you sure you want to train with the farmhands?" Various asked. "You might get your fancy riding boots all dirty. I'd be surprised if they ever touched a dirt field."

"Stop this at once!" Vulpix bellowed. "I'll not have arguments with our allies. This is a horrible way to inspire camaraderie."

"Of course, General," Bluewhale said, suddenly much more composed. "My apologies, Various."

"Grovel a little more and I might accept it," Various said, a smug smile on his face.

"Don't be a prick, Various," Austin said.

"What?" Various asked. "They started it!"

"All we did was observe that your troops were undisciplined compared to ours," Vaniellis said. "Which is just a fact. We thought that by training together, some of our Arkosian discipline might rub off on them."

"If you had said that instead of 'these peasants would be so much better off if Arkosians trained them,'" Various said, "I might have accepted."

"Seriously, you two?" Vulpix said. He sighed. "We'll discuss this later. For now, go find Opifexa and Prince Alfonse. They'll show us where we're staying for the night.

"Very well," Bluewhale said. "We'll see you in the morning."

"Apologies, Various," Vaniellis said. "And to you, General."

"Don't let it happen again," Vulpix said. Various rolled his eyes at Vaniellis and went back to the fields.

"If your men and our men are at each other's throats like this," Nitesco said, "we'll be too busy fighting each other to fight the Church."

"We will resolve that in time, I hope," Vulpix said. "But for now, we should focus on our strategy."

"Indeed," Austin said. She led Vulpix and Nitesco into the inn which had been converted into their main headquarters. She pulled out a map of Rubia and set it on the counter.

"Coronam and the Mask have been making overtures to some of Jannis's vassals," Austin said. "And some have accepted our proposal. Generic of Lancaster and Horsea of Springthyme, but most importantly to our strategy, Viceroy Sphinx of Checkmate."

"Sphinx?" Vulpix asked. "Not Onyzyon?"

"It seems that Sphinx went behind his liege's back," Nitesco said. "Which is convenient for us. He has given us military access through Checkmate. We'll move through there and amass our soldiers in Enabler, and then we'll strike at the Church's headquarters."

Vulpix stroked his beard. "A simplistic plan, but I expect it will be effective if we move quickly enough."

"That's the thing," Austin said. "Even with all the troops you and I can muster together, we need more to turn the tide. Reinforcements from our new allies are necessary."

"And you think it will take time before we can hit them, yes?" Vulpix asked.

Nitesco nodded. "To move undetected, we'll have to move our troops piecemeal into Enabler. Our assault won't be ready until spring."

"And that's without the possibility of betrayal," Austin said. Vulpix sighed.

"If they meant to sell us out," Vulpix said, "they would have captured Coronam and the Mask when they had the chance. Have those two reported in recently?"

"We received a letter from them yesterday," Austin said. "They are on their way back."

"They'll bring back representatives of our new allies too," Nitesco said. "If our allies come to bolster us, then with the element of surprise we can wipe out the Church leadership in one fell swoop."

"That's true," Vulpix said. He stroked his beard. "Only… what happens after?"

Nitesco and Austin traded glances. "We've been discussing that, but we haven't reached an agreement," Nitesco said. "I believe that once nations are done rebuilding, we should call a Diet and organize a lasting peace."

"Or we could reform the Subreddit," Austin said. "The old system is what brought this conflict about. It needs to change." She paused. "But we can discuss this another time."

"That's not what I meant," Vulpix said. "Nothing so grand as that. I meant with our nations."

"Our nations?" Nitesco asked. "What about them?"

"The balance of power will shift dramatically once this war is over," Vulpix said. "These nations that have sided with us, and even some that have reluctantly sided with Jannis, they will have no one to keep them in line once the Church is gone. Lancaster, Guns N' Roses. Perhaps even Checkmate, with the moves Sphinx has made."

"And what of Arkos?" Austin asked. "Forgive me for saying so, but your generals seem more willing to speak against you."

"Yes," Vulpix said. "That is partially my fault. I told them, perhaps too early, that I plan to step down once this war is over."

"Why?" Nitesco asked.

"I am growing weary of the duties of state," Vulpix said. "And I am already losing my control over the Oligarchs. At the very least, stepping down would avoid a power struggle, if I get all my affairs in order."

"Very selfless," Austin said. "We'll wish you the best."

"I'll wish _you_ the best," Vulpix said. He shook his head. "I'll be retired, but you two will still be here. Once the Church falls, the world will change very quickly. You must be prepared."

"We will do our best," Nitesco said. Austin nodded in affirmation.

"I hope so," Vulpix said, and they fell into silence.

* * *

**November 18, 10 ATC**

**Outside of the City of Hanzo, Duchy of Liren, Kingdom of Renora**

In the snow-filled trenches, behind a long line of catapults, General Strike watched as his siege engines battered the walls of Hanzo. The Renorans had begun rebuilding their walls at odd, star-shaped angles which made it substantially more difficult to bring down their walls with artillery. Strike had resorted to traditional siege methods, but this had made it impossible to move through Renora as quickly as he hoped. It had been almost two months since he arrived in Renora, but the cold winds, the new defenses, and the stubbornness of the Renoran people had only allowed him to claim the cities along their coastline. Once Hanzo was gone, though, he could finally move inland.

"General Strike!" Strike turned around. He saw Rustred, the commander of the legion of Church Crusaders that Jannis had sent to help. Rustred held out a scroll.

"Rustred," he said. "What is this?"

"A messenger arrived not five minutes ago," Rustred said. "He said this was for you, from Jannis himself."

"Jannis?" Strike snatched the scroll from Rustred's hand. "Whatever for?" Strike tore off the seal and tossed it into the snow before unrolling the paper.

_General Strike_, it read. _The situation in Rubia has changed. Viceroy Sphinx, now in our court, reports that recent developments have led to Rubia growing more unstable than can be allowed. I am told that several of the lords of Bumblebee, as well as some of the northern lords, have turned against us in secret. We have an urgent need for someone to remind them of their proper place. Leave the command of the campaign in Commander Rustred's hands. You are to return to Osiria Cathedral immediately._

"What does it say?" Rustred asked. Strike crumpled up the letter and shoved it in his pocket.

"I've been recalled," Strike said. "Apparently Jannis can't delegate rebellion quashing to some other peon."

Rustred looked uneasily at the ground as Strike walked away. "Who's in command now?" he asked.

"You are," Strike said. "I've left maps and numbers in the command center. That should be everything you need."

"And where are you going?" Rustred asked.

"To gather my things," Strike said. "And to go tell the men. I'll be gone by tomorrow morning. God keep you and save you, because this shitshow is in your hands now."

As Strike descended into the trenches, he pulled out the letter, uncrumpled it, and read it again. _Grown unstable_, it said. _Urgent need_.

"It had better be worth it," Strike muttered to himself. He shoved the letter back in his pocket and continued into the trenches.


	6. Chapter 6

**December 1, 10 ATC**

_**Javelin, **_**Confirmed River**

Austin paced on the deck of the _Javelin,_ watching as the frosty countryside passed by. The Arkosians had diverted enough of their riverships to ferry their soldiers to and from Checkmate, from where they would march to Enabler. Moving their men piecemeal was an arduous process which many, especially Bluewhale and Various, found to be too slow. But everyone knew that if they were detected moving en masse, the Church would realize their plan, so they begrudgingly consented. Nitesco had been on the first ship out, and now Austin followed. Vulpix and Vaniellis were to remain behind and facilitate transportation until the last men were out.

As Austin leaned on the railing, she heard heavy footsteps behind her. She turned and saw Bluewhale striding about the deck. He had donned his captain's hat for the trip, and a large mace hung from his belt. He saw Austin and walked over to her.

"Austin," he said. "I don't believe I've had the chance to properly introduce myself."

"You spent far more time training with your soldiers than mine," she said. "Perhaps that's why."

"Nevertheless," Bluewhale said, "it's good to know your allies. Admiral Regis Bluewhale, at your service. Just Admiral is fine, though."

"Just Austin," Austin replied. "No need for grandeur."

"Of course not," Bluewhale said. "Not now, anyway. But we're sailing to glory, are we not?"

"I certainly hope it's the glory of victory," Austin said. "And I hope we make it there. These rivers are wide and we sail without flags, but I hope we are not sunk before we make it to Checkmate."

"Sink?" Bluewhale said. He laughed. "No, not today. The Church will never be able to sink one of my ships!" he declared.

"You're that confident, huh?" Austin asked.

"Yes, indeed," Bluewhale said. "Most of these ships were made in my family's shipyards. I can personally guarantee their quality."

"Your family's shipyards?" Austin asked. "Is that why you became an Oligarch?"

"No," Bluewhale said, slightly offended. "I was appointed to represent the region of Miloakouo by its people. They recognized my talent for leadership when I kept ANGQ's navy from shelling our coasts during Celtic's Revolt."

"Some would say you aren't a hero for supporting Celtic during that war," Austin said, a subtle irritation in her voice.

Bluewhale scoffed. "If my people decided I was a hero, then I am. Simple as that. And besides, I was democratically elected. Isn't that something you and Nitesco both love so dearly?"

"Democratically elected for a life term?" Austin asked.

"Or until resignation," Bluewhale said. "Your point being?"

"Nothing," Austin said. "Just that, perhaps, Arkos might be in need of reform."

"More reform?" Bluewhale scoffed. "Please. Zealander has taken away enough of our traditions."

"Like what?" Austin asked.

Bluewhale grumbled. "He stripped many of our aristocratic families of their positions and land and appointed new holders from non-military families. And to top that off, he allowed foreigners to hold government positions, hold land, and even enlist!" Bluewhale sighed. "It was a mistake to appoint him to his position."

"And you allowed this to happen?" Austin asked. "He's not even an Oligarch. How did this ever get through?"

"He is a populist," Bluewhale sneered. "And more importantly, he has friends in high positions: important merchants, contractors, administrators and the like. If we want their support, we must support Zealander. Presbyter Ijustread would present whatever legislation he suggested, and invariably at least two of us would join his side. Even if we disagreed, there were too many who didn't. We had no choice." He sighed and straightened up. "But the winds are changing, Austin. Especially for Arkos."

"Perhaps you should look past the immediate effects of Zealander's reforms," Austin said, "and look at what they've done for Arkos."

"Or perhaps," Bluewhale said, an ambitious glint in his eye, "Arkos should be governed by those who know it best."

"Austin!" A voice called. Austin turned and saw Various waving her down from the bow of the ship. Austin turned back to Bluewhale.

"I have to go," she offered weakly. Bluewhale seemed not to notice.

"Of course. It's been quite informative." He nodded and headed back toward the captain's cabin while Austin walked over to Various.

"Various," she said. "You need something?"

"Oh, no," he said, and a clever grin snuck onto his face. "I just figured you didn't want to talk to the most glorious admiral over there."

"You figured right," Austin said, and they laughed. "How are the men?"

"A little nauseous, and perhaps a little weary," Various said, "but we're on the move now instead of sitting around in Crouchback. They know there will be a fight soon, and I think they're ready for one."

"God knows they've been sitting around long enough," Austin said. "It's only right that they get a chance to do what they signed up to do."

"If they survive, they can be heroes when they get back," Various said.

Austin rolled her eyes. "Now you sound like Bluewhale."

Various chuckled. "Goodness, I'm not serious. They'll have a few stories to tell, but if they've got half a mind, they'll keep the parts with glory and leave out the atrocities."

"Is that what you do?" Austin asked.

Various shrugged. "Who's to say?" They fell into a moment of silence.

After some time, Various decided to speak again. "What will you do after the war?" he asked.

"Once this is over?" Austin said. She pursed her lips. "I've been looking to get into politics. Someone's going to have to pick up the pieces when we're done. It should be us. It's our responsibility."

"Oh, damn," Various said. "I could never imagine getting into politics. I plan to grab my trophies from the Church vault, put them on my mantle, and then go back to enjoying my mansion."

"If you liked your mansion so much," Austin said, "why did you leave?"

"I felt obligated," Various said. "I've seen enough tyrants for a lifetime. Several lifetimes, in fact. Lived under one. I'd rather not live under another."

"Very noble," Austin said. "Maybe you do have a heart after all, in spite of what the soldiers tell me."

"Oh, I'm not that bad to the men," Various said. He laughed, but his expression remained dour. "As for whether I have a heart, I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

"I guess," Austin echoed. They became quiet once again as they watched the snowy landscape drift by.

* * *

**December 3, 10 ATC**

**Osiria Cathedral, Laevig Province, Kingdom of White Rose**

When Jannis wrote the letter to Strike recalling him from Renora, he knew that would upset Strike. He thought that he would have to deal with yet another proud Arkosian filling his ears with noise. But when Strike returned to the Cathedral not only calm but in good spirits, Jannis was slightly unnerved.

He was in the courtyard when Strike arrived, flanked by the guardsmen Jannis sent to meet him. Despite the dismal weather and the bitter cold, Strike was not only smiling but whistling when he approached Jannis.

"Jannis," he said, swaggering up to the Scion. "Good to see you again."

"Good to see you too," Jannis said. "You're awfully cheerful."

"Ah, yes," Strike said. "I suppose I am. Come, we can discuss why indoors." Jannis waved the guardsmen back to their posts and followed Strike inside.

Jannis took the lead and led Strike upstairs, to the indoor balconies around the main area of the cathedral. Jannis looked down on the pews and the altar, decorated with the red and white of the Church's rose emblem, and found it did not spark as much joy as before. He shook the thought away and continued.

They found Anti and Sphinx talking quietly on the balcony. As Jannis approached, they turned and Sphinx gave a small bow.

"Jannis," he said. "And Colonel Strike. I am Sphinx, and I don't believe we've met."

"It's General," Strike said, but he shook Sphinx's hand anyway. "A pleasure to meet you."

"Sphinx is the newest addition to my council," Jannis explained, "and his connections have been invaluable in identifying dissidents and rebels."

"Recently," Anti said, "Sphinx has informed us that there are rumblings of rebellion in the north, and not this primitive hit-and-run strategy they've used since Fort Bombus. A real campaign."

"Where would they get the men?" Strike asked. "Or a ruler that would collaborate with them?"

"My suspicions were Enabler, at first," Sphinx said. "But Enabler is landlocked, and all the nations surrounding it are our allies. It's a miracle they haven't succumbed to us already, and I don't believe they'd be foolish enough to try from there."

"It has to be the far north," Anti said. "Iceberg, perhaps, or Freezerburn."

"Didn't we negotiate with King Dat for an alliance?" Strike asked.

"Well," Jannis said. "King Dat also invited Gwydion and Contramundi to that meeting. Gwydion blasted his face off, and he died shortly after. Freezerburn is now in the hands of King Dinas, Dat's son, who is more opportunistic yet less competent than his father."

"And his heir and brother, Prince Blaze, is also a frothing drunk," Anti added. "They both have a weakness of character that Nitesco and Austin may exploit."

"Which is why I suggested you return, Strike," Sphinx said. "You know our enemies best, out of all our commanders. You can stamp them out."

"I know they're heading north," Strike said. "Far north. Somewhere along the river."

"How?" Jannis asked.

Strike smiled and leaned against the balcony railing. "Well, on my journey back here, I passed a convoy of ships moving north. Large riverships, enough to hold a large amount of men. They had no flags or markings, but I saw Arkosian soldiers on the decks of those ships."

Sphinx swallowed. "Are you certain? Where was this?"

Strike shrugged. "Yesterday afternoon. I was close to docking in Bumblebee."

"This proves they're on the move," Jannis said. "We cannot allow that."

"But we don't know where they're going," Anti said. "There are plenty of nations they could shelter in. We must take time to find out which ones."

"Leave that to me," Sphinx said. "In the meantime, Strike, I would begin preparing to attack the northern nations. Draw up strategy, consult with our commanders here. I can provide logistics."

"Excellent," Strike said. "Sphinx, if what you say is true, then I'll finally have the chance to avenge myself on those arrogant fools. Let's discuss this elsewhere. Jannis, Anti, I bid you a good day."

"Good day," Jannis and Anti murmured as Strike and Sphinx left.

Anti furrowed her brow as they left. "Strike seems happier than I expected," she said.

Jannis sighed. "He thinks that battle with our enemies is imminent. He thinks if he kills Austin or Nitesco, he has a shot at glory. And I'm sure it doesn't hurt that Zealander is with them."

"He's grown arrogant," Anti said. "Well, more than he already was."

"At least he's predictable," Jannis said. "Arrogant, hotheaded? Yes. But it's not as if we don't know what he'll do."

"Have you thought this way about all your lieutenants?" Anti asked.

Jannis leaned on the railing, looking down on the main floor of the cathedral. Rows and rows of pews all faced toward the altar, decorated with the finest red silk, and yet it sat empty. He sighed.

"Anti," he said. "Do you remember what you told Zissman when you first agreed to join us?"

"Yes," she said. "Zissman asked me if I was willing to die for our goals. And I told him—" She paused. "I told him that if I died without pursuing my goals, I would never have lived to begin with."

"You were with us since the beginning," Jannis said. "Our first ally. Before Faker, and Inferno. Before this war. You and I, we are the last to be there at the beginning." He turned toward her, a somber look in his eyes. "You are the only one I can trust."

"Not Link?" Anti asked. "Not Rowing?"

"Link has the brashness of youth," Jannis said. "He is a true believer, to his core. That I know. But his zeal is such that it is not impossible he would defy or disobey me if he thought I went against the Goddess's will.

"And Rowing… I needed someone to replace Zissman, someone who knew theology and the people where my knowledge was lacking. His heart is in the right place, but he still reminds me of Zissman. To be sure, they are different: Rowing is quiet where Zissman was loud, and he is relaxed where Zissman was zealous. But I see this cunning in his eyes, this guile that reminds me so much of Zissman, and I know I cannot ever truly trust him."

"And why do you trust me, then?" Anti said. "Am I not cunning? Am I not sometimes proud or deceitful?"

"Perhaps," Jannis said. "But you were there when Faker died. You were there when Austin betrayed us. You were there when Fort Bombus was sacked. We are the only ones who know, Anti, what that was like. If I cannot trust you, who can I trust?"

"An interesting question," Anti said softly. "Do you know the answer?"

"No," Jannis said. He returned his gaze to the empty cathedral. "I'm afraid I don't."

* * *

**December 6, 10 ATC**

**Port Anderssen, Viceroyalty of Checkmate, Principality of Monochrome**

The unmarked ships had come to port in Anderssen's docks. Hozack watched from the hill as the soldiers trickled out of them, unloading their gear and supplies as quick as they were able. The people of Anderssen would have looked at them with suspicion or fear if they had come two weeks ago. But the constant flow of troops in and out of Anderssen had become normal. His grandfather had also managed to convince Jannis not to send scouts or diplomats to Checkmate, under the pretense that it would look too suspicious to Onyzyon, and he quietly eliminated the spies Anti thought she sent unnoticed. No information would get back to Jannis.

"Austin and Various are supposed to be on this one," the Mask said. The Mask and Coronam allowed Hozack to return to Checkmate only with an escort. Coronam remained in Enabler with Contramundi while the Mask and his mercenary guards accompanied Hozack. There was no need, but Hozack knew they had to take precautions, so he gracefully accepted. He knew that as soon as Austin and Various arrived safely, the Mask would take him back to Enabler.

"Do you see them?" Hozack asked.

The Mask shook his head. "You'll know when you see them. Austin's hair is paler than a vampire, and she wears an eyepatch. Various, for all his faults, keeps his armor as shiny as his scalp."

"He's bald?" Hozack asked. "At forty?"

"Forty-three, but you didn't hear that from me," the Mask said. "And it's because he shaves it. It's better not to mention it."

"Clearly," Hozack muttered. He turned his attention back to the unloading ships. Now, he saw a young woman with light hair waving the men off the ships, with a tall, bald man at her side. Austin and Various.

"Look there," Hozack said. "I'm certain that's them."

The Mask leaned slightly and squinted. "I can't see anything in this damn thing," he muttered. "But I'll take your word for it. Let's go."

The pair walked down toward the docks, wading through the crowds of people and soldiers. As they got closer, Hozack heard the Mask muttering to himself over the growing noise of the crowds.

"Oh, fuck," the Mask said. Hozack looked at him quizzically.

"What's the problem?" he asked. The Mask pointed at a man in an Arkosian uniform next to Austin and Various, with short brown hair and almost comically large epaulettes.

"You see that guy in the Arkosian uniform?" the Mask asked.

"Yes, I see him," Hozack said. "What of him?"

"You'll see," the Mask said. As they got closer, Austin, Various and the Arkosian officer noticed their approach.

"Mask," Austin said loudly, so she could be heard over the din. "And you must be Hozack."

"Yes, I am!" Hozack yelled, trying to match Austin's volume. "You are Various, I presume?" Various merely nodded in response.

"And I," the Arkosian interjected, with seemingly no effort in matching their volume, "am Admiral Bluewhale. We've arrived to transport our soldiers through your lands."

"We know why you're here," the Mask said. "Come away. Let's discuss this somewhere quieter."

Hozack and the Mask led them away from the bustling docks, out into the town. "Forgive me if I am not very hospitable," Hozack said. "I was sent here to ensure you two arrived safely, but I cannot stay for long."

"Whatever for?" Various asked.

"The leaders already in Enabler told me to bring you here as soon as you arrived," the Mask said. "Hozack is to guide us through Checkmate, and I am to ensure he doesn't try to do anything bad."

"I won't," Hozack said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But I understand. We cannot take any risks right now."

"I have two spare horses," the Mask said. "Various, Austin, I must ask that you set out with us immediately."

"Immediately?" Austin asked. "What's all the rush about?"

"We intercepted a Church messenger," Hozack said. "Apparently Jannis is arming for a conflict. My grandfather has done his best to misdirect Jannis towards the northern kingdoms, but it seems that it worked too well. Jannis may be focusing on the wrong people now, but if we are discovered, he will have a standing army. He will have an advantage."

"Nice going," Various said.

"There's no need to be rude," the Mask said.

"You're one to talk," Various retorted.

The Mask shrugged. "Fair point," he said. "But our orders still stand. Austin, Various, will an hour be enough to inform your men and gather your things?"

"It should be," Austin said. "I'll set out right away."

As Austin and Various left, "Wait," Bluewhale said, clearly irritated. "What about me? Was I not requested?"

"No," the Mask said. "You weren't."

"But someone needs to lead these men to Enabler," Hozack said quickly. "I'll assign some guides to aid you. While Austin and Various come with us, you'll take the rest of the men."

"I suppose someone has to do it," Bluewhale said, clearly disappointed. He followed Austin and Various down to the docks.

Hozack and the Mask watched them as they called for the men's attention and began addressing them. Austin and Bluewhale stood to deliver the news while Various watched stoically from the sidelines.

"Quite a motley crew, aren't they?" the Mask said.

"Perhaps," Hozack said. "But they're good at what they do, from what I've heard. Various is crafty, Bluewhale can strategize. Austin is an inspiring speaker."

"A good speaker," the Mask said, "but her strategic sense needs honing. Still, she has potential."

"Is it true her father was _the_ Austin?" Hozack asked.

The Mask nodded. "You must be the last person in this Subreddit to know," he said.

Hozack chuckled. "Just confirming my suspicions. Do you think she'll live up to her father?"

The two of them watched as Austin spoke to the crowd, and the Mask sighed. "I certainly hope so," he said.

* * *

**December 8, 10 ATC**

**Osiria Cathedral, Laevig Province, Kingdom of White Rose**

Link paced along the parapets of Osiria Cathedral, looking out over the snow-swept landscape. Winter had come hard to White Rose, and Link found himself wishing he was back in Snowflake Protection, his small fiefdom on the Sunken River, rather than the cold inlands of Rubia. He pulled his scarf closer to his face and shivered.

Down below, on the outer defensive wall, Link watched the soldiers pace back and forth. Some were Church soldiers, some were White Rosians. A few were even from Ladybug. Link leaned over the edge slightly to see which ones the soldiers were.

"Don't fall over," someone behind him said. Link yelped in surprise and turned around. It was Rowing. Link sighed in relief.

"Rowing," he said. "You scared me."

"My apologies," Rowing said. Despite the cold, he did not seem to be bothered at all. "I came up here to think. What are you doing?"

"Observing the soldiers," Link said. He glanced around the outer wall. "Rowing, I have a question, and I'd like you to answer honestly."

Rowing shrugged. "Go ahead."

"If we were attacked, right now, do you think we could survive?"

At that, Rowing's expression darkened, and he looked down. "No," he said. "No, I know that we couldn't survive. Our only hope would be to escape."

"Well," Link said, "hopefully it won't come to that."

"It may," Rowing said. "And if it does, what do you plan to do?"

Link paused and looked down. "I suppose I would stay and fight," he said.

"Fight?" Rowing asked. "Why would you do that? Of all of Jannis's inner council, you're probably the only one who could survive."

"You really think so?" Link asked. He did not like the game Rowing was playing.

"Yes," Rowing said. "You are yet young; you are only twenty, are you not? And you are not well-known. I am a high-ranking Vicar, Strike is an Arkosian traitor, Anti, oh Goddess, she carved out Austin's fucking eye. But you could survive if you publicly recanted. The old king of White Rose is dead now, the one who gave you that." He tugged Link's scarf down, revealing the scar that the old White Rose king had awarded him for converting to the Church. "You have an opportunity. If the worst comes to pass, all you have to do is say sorry and Austin and Nitesco will sit you right back down in your riverside estate."

"And you?" Link asked, pulling his scarf back over the brand on his cheek. "What would you do?"

Rowing paused and bit his lip. "I would seek shelter. Find allies or communities that would hide me." He stopped and sighed. "If I am forced to flee, could I count on you to shelter me?"

Link narrowed his eyes at Rowing. "You would so readily abandon the Church? You would not stand with it?"

"The Goddess is capable of a great many things, Link," Rowing said, his voice growing deep with offense. "She can bring communities together, she can inspire goodness and charity in men, and she can unite people like us toward a common goal. But when the armies of our enemies march up to our doors, do you think that she will stop their swords or arrows from killing us?"

Link took a step back. "When, huh?" he said. "Not if?"

Rowing turned back toward the outer wall, and the snowy hills beyond it. "Look that way, Link," Rowing said. "Do you know what's in that direction?" Link shook his head.

"I thought not. The Enablerish border is twenty miles that way, and I know that a sizable garrison lies a mere three miles beyond that. Our soldiers are on that border constantly, trying to break their lines, but there is nothing between them and us. If the enemy should ever break through, they have a clear shot to the Cathedral." He paused. "I'm not saying this to threaten you, Link. But we must prepare contingencies, especially in a time like this. And my best chance of survival if things go south is you."

"Why me?" Link asked. "Why not Anti or Sphinx? Strike or Jannis?"

"I don't fully trust Anti," Rowing said. "She's been with us for a long time, yes, but if push comes to shove, she will save herself first. I trust Sphinx about as far as I can throw him, and with the stunt Strike pulled against the League, I know he has no future except prison or the gallows if the Church falls. And Jannis…" He trailed off, and he pursed his lips. "Jannis won't be taken alive. Nitesco will see to that. You are the only one who can survive, and you are the only one of our native allies that really, truly believes in the Goddess."

"So, let's say I set you up in my estate," Link said. "What do you do for me?"

Rowing frowned. "I suppose I can get you into contact with other former Church members. Network with other believers. Keep the faith alive, if need be, which suits both of our interests." He extended a hand. "So," he said, "what do you say?"

Link looked at Rowing's hand and hesitated. "Only when our defeat is inevitable," Link said. "Not a moment sooner."

"I would accept nothing more," Rowing said, and Link shook his hand.

* * *

**December 13, 10 ATC**

**Sans City, Duchy of Filiasolis, Triumvirate of Enabler**

The fast ride through Checkmate had left Austin exhausted. For a week straight, their party drove their horses through the Checkmate countryside, though they were stymied by the heavy snows. It had been a week since she had bathed or changed her clothes, and she felt the grime on her clothes and in her hair. Nevertheless, when she and her party rode through the streets of Sans City, admired by the passersby that caught wind of their arrival, she felt as regal as could be.

When her party arrived at the steps of Contramundi's manor, she was elated to see Nitesco there to meet them. She, Hozack, Various, and the Mask dismounted while their escort unloaded their luggage, took their horses and trotted away.

"Nitesco!" Austin exclaimed. "You're a sight for sore eyes!"

"Rough trip, huh?" he asked. She drew him into a hug, and he sniffed the air. "Not to ruin the moment, Austin, but you smell like you've been wading through horse shit."

"We basically have been," Hozack said. "I'd love to do a meet-and-greet now, but I'm in dire need of a bath. Do you know where the bathhouses are?"

"In the north wing," Nitesco said. "Ask a servant."

"Will do," Hozack said. He started up the steps to the manor.

"My mask smells like mildew," the Mask complained. He and Various followed Hozack up the steps.

"Then get a new one," Various said.

"Oh, there's no need for that," the Mask said. "I brought spares. They're all dry, last I checked."

"You have spares?" Various asked. Austin laughed as they walked away and turned back to Nitesco.

"Are Coronam and Contramundi here?" she asked.

"They'll be having lunch soon," Nitesco said. "Go on and get clean. It's best not to spoil their appetite."

"Oh, shut up," Austin said. They snickered, and Austin took her luggage up to the manor. She left her belongings at the door and asked a servant to direct her to the bathhouse.

Once Austin had cleaned and changed clothes, she went to the dining room to meet with the others. Nitesco, Coronam, and Contramundi were all there, eating lunch.

"Austin!" Contramundi said, finally noticing Austin's entrance. "It's good to see you again." Austin smiled and shook his hand.

"Likewise," she said. She turned to Coronam. "And I see you're still alive," she said to him. "I trust you had good travels?"

"Very productive meetings, too," Coronam said. "As Hozack's presence can attest."

"Speaking of," Austin said, "where are the rest of them?"

"Resting, presumably," Nitesco said. "We can brief them later. We'll just be going over what we plan to do now. We'll hone the details as time goes on."

"Very well," Austin said, and she sat down. "Where do we begin?"

"Like us, Lancaster is bringing its forces into Enabler piecemeal," Coronam said. "And Springthyme's leader, Horsea, pledged us mercenaries. They'll be arriving steadily over the next few months. Their leaders will also accompany us soon. We'll be ready for an attack by March."

"March?" Austin said. "A lot can go wrong between then and now."

"We have no other way," Contramundi said. "My borders are constantly assailed by Church soldiers. When the day comes, most of our soldiers will go to fending off the border battalions while a small force strikes at Osiria Cathedral. We will need a lot of men for that to work."

"But we can do it," Nitesco said. "All we need is patience and a little bit of luck."

"I never thought you the type to rely on luck," Coronam said.

"Times have changed," Nitesco said. "We use what is available. Austin, what do you think?"

Austin sighed and shrugged. "I suppose we don't have another choice."

"My, what an uplifting sentiment," Contramundi said.

"Well, it's not like we can't pull it off," Austin said, crossing her arms. "If we can muster enough soldiers, we can definitely topple Jannis."

"That's the spirit!" Coronam said.

Contramundi rubbed his hands together maliciously. "I can't wait to see Jannis's head on a pike," he said. "If only we gutted him and Zissman earlier."

"We cannot change the past," Nitesco said, "but we can change the future." He looked out the window, toward the border with White Rose, and raised his arms dramatically.

"Stay strong, my friends," he said. "This will all be over soon."


	7. Chapter 7

**January 24, 11 ATC**

**Sans City, Duchy of Filiasolis, Triumvirate of Enabler**

Austin paced on the balcony of her bedroom**, **walking back and forth in the brisk winds. The winter snows draped the whole city in white, and even if it was an inconvenience to the soldiers who were forced to camp outside the city walls, Austin thought that it was a beautiful sight.

She heard a knock on the door, which interrupted her reverie. Austin sighed. "Who is it?"

"Various," Various said. "The Arkosians arrived last night, and I think our new friends will be arriving today."

Austin went over to the door and unlocked it. "Come in," she said.

Various entered and closed the door behind him. "You have snow on you," he said.

"I was out on the balcony," Austin said. "Fresh air clears my head. You said something about the Arkosians?"

"Yeah," Various said. "Zealander and Vaniellis arrived late last night. They're supposed to have a meeting with Nitesco in a few hours."

"That's good," Austin said.

"There's more," Various said. "I have a friend in the reconnaissance corps. He told me that our new allies were marching down the main road, and their emissaries are there too: Elyk of Springthyme and, a drumroll please, General Spiderplant of Lancaster."

Austin sighed. Arkos and Lancaster were like oil and water: for centuries, they had been engaged in a ruthless back-and-forth. During the Third Shipping War, Lancaster sided against Arkos and took sizable chunks of its land, and during Celtic's Revolt, Arkos did the same right back. Although they needed both Arkos and Lancaster's forces, getting them to cooperate would be like herding cats.

"Oh, joy," Austin said. "I can't wait to hear him bicker with the Arkosians."

"Well, I'd get on that," Various said. "My friend told me they were coming two hours ago, which means that they'll be here in about ten-ish minutes."

"Oh, dear," Austin said. "Okay. Tell Nitesco I'll be there. I need to get dressed first."

"Of course," Various said.

After changing clothes and tying up her hair, Austin went down to the landing, where she saw Nitesco and Vulpix chattering away. Vulpix looked up and saw her descending the stairs.

"Well, look who decided to join us," Vulpix said. "You almost missed the most interesting part of the show."

"I slept in," Austin said. "But I wouldn't miss this for anything. Will they be here soon?"

"Too soon," Nitesco said. "They're in the city by now, I'm sure. But we can't seem to find Bluewhale or Vaniellis."

"We'll just have to cross our fingers and hope they don't make a scene," Vulpix said.

"We'll see," Nitesco said. A soldier suddenly came into the foyer and waved at the commanders.

"Sirs," he said. "The new ones are here, along with their soldiers. The diplomats will be here shortly."

"Can we trust you to handle this one?" Vulpix said. Austin sighed and nodded.

"If I must," she said. "I'll be as gracious as I can be."

"Thank you," Nitesco said. "For your generous sacrifice."

"May hymns be sung and stories told," Austin said. They shared a smile before Austin walked out into the courtyard to meet the dignitaries.

In the courtyard, flanked by Gunnian and Arkosian soldiers, were two men. One was dressed in traditional Lancastrian uniform, complete with a cap, and wore a scraggly beard. The man next to him was much shorter, wearing a green coat that complemented his brown hair and eyes.

As they approached, Austin opened her arms in a welcoming gesture. "Welcome to Enabler, my friends," she said. "I regret that it couldn't be under better circumstances. I'm Commander Austin."

"Elyk Mason," the green-coated man said. He shivered as he extended his hand. Austin shook it and turned to the Lancastrian.

"General Spiderplant," the man said. He shook Austin's hand. "It's nice to see a fellow of renown out here. It gets boring, surrounded by all these dull peasants."

"Come now, I haven't been that bad company," Elyk said. Spiderplant rolled his eyes.

"Let's go inside," Austin said. "It's cold out here, and we have much to discuss."

Spiderplant nodded. "That sounds like an—" he paused and groaned. "Oh good. The Arkosians have come to greet us."

Austin turned around and, to her chagrin, saw Bluewhale and Vaniellis beelining towards them. Behind her, she heard Elyk sigh.

"Oh good," he echoed, "so they have."

"Let's hear what they have to say," Spiderplant said, clearly eager for a confrontation.

"Bluewhale. Vaniellis," Austin said, somewhat irritated. "What brings you out here?"

"Don't worry," Bluewhale said. "I've only come to greet our new friends. Any allies are welcome under our roof."

"Yes," Vaniellis said. "I was surprised to hear they came so early. I didn't think they would be so eager to come."

"Oh, god," Austin and Elyk muttered at the same time.

"If I had known how many Arkosians there would be," Spiderplant said with a cocky grin, "I might've taken longer."

"There's no need to be antagonistic," Bluewhale said. "We're just trying to be friendly."

"You're trying to be a pain in my ass," Spiderplant responded. "Though _you_ certainly don't need to try."

"You'll have to offer something better than schoolyard insults if you want to be of use to us," Vaniellis said, venom in his voice.

"And what have you offered us, huh?" Spiderplant asked. "What has Arkos done for the League, besides occupy my land and throw corpses at the Church?"

"That's enough!" Austin said. "Enough. Bicker on your own time. We did not bring you together so you could jape at each other."

"He insulted our honor," Bluewhale said, uncharacteristically restrained.

"And you came out here to antagonize me," Spiderplant said. "Don't pretend like this was a friendly meet-and-greet."

"Enough!" Austin said, holding a finger up to Vaniellis's lips before he could retort. "Like it or not, you will have to work together for our campaign against the Church to succeed. So I suggest that if you cannot work together, then you can at least tolerate each other's presence for a month or two. Is that unfair?"

"Not at all," Bluewhale said. Vaniellis nodded in agreement.

"I'll do it if they will," Spiderplant said.

"Excellent," Austin said. "Now, Coronam and Contramundi are in the dining room. They will brief you on the situation there. Go."

The leaders grudgingly obeyed. Bluewhale and Vaniellis turned and walked back into the manner without a second glance. Spiderplant huffed and followed after them.

Elyk stayed behind for a moment. "Thank you for stopping that," he said. "Spiderplant is a good man, but he has quite the fighting spirit."

"I understand," Austin said. "He reminds me of myself not so long ago."

Elyk laughed. "Does he now? Perhaps he'll be flattered to hear that." He walked toward the manor, giving her a backwards wave. "See you around," he said.

Austin crossed her arms. The manor that had once felt so empty was quickly becoming quite crowded. Lancastrians, Springthymers, Arkosians, Gunnians. She shivered and hugged her arms closer to her chest before following them inside.

* * *

"Springthymers, Lancastrians," Nitesco said. "This place grows busier by the day."

"Hopefully for the best," Vulpix said. He and Nitesco hurried up the stairs as Austin went out to meet Elyk Mason and Spiderplant. "God willing, we'll learn to work together."

They went into one of Contramundi's offices, which was currently barren save for a few empty bookshelves. Nitesco shut the door behind them and sighed.

"I'm glad we're getting allies now," Nitesco said. "But it may end up being a devil's bargain. What happens once this is over? What happens if Lancaster or Springthyme starts making demands above their station? Hell, what if Enabler does that? Contramundi is just as ambitious as Generic, I'd say."

"There is nothing we can do now that does not risk toppling the house of cards our new alliance is built on," Vulpix said. "We may be brothers-in-arms now, but I know the question in the back of everyone's mind: what happens when we are no longer bound by alliance?"

"I will try to keep the peace as best I can," Nitesco said. "And I trust Coronam to do the same. It's a pity you'll be stepping down, though."

"It was only a matter of time before I was forced out anyway," Vulpix said. "At least this way I can go out on my terms, set things up for the future."

"You made the right decision," Nitesco said. He pushed aside the curtain. Down in the courtyard, Austin was talking with Elyk, Spiderplant, and the two Arkosian Oligarchs. Nitesco sighed. "Any more control you have over your fellows, the better."

"Vaniellis loves his country to the point of shortsightedness," Vulpix said, "and the good Admiral's skills are sometimes overshadowed by his vanity. But they are excellent strategists, and they are growing worryingly adept at politics. If only I trusted their motives, I would be fine leaving Arkos in their hands."

"I've contemplated dropping out of politics myself," Nitesco said. "Taking up in the countryside."

Vulpix laughed. "The world needs you to keep the peace more than it needs me," Vulpix said. "And besides, who would replace you?"

Nitesco turned his attention back out the window. Austin was standing there alone now, staring off into the snowy city.

"Austin, perhaps."

Vulpix sighed. "I know you care deeply for Austin, Nitesco, but you shouldn't let that blind you to the truth. She is too naive, too focused on ideals instead of reality, especially for politics."

"She wants reform," Nitesco said. "That's not a bad thing."

"But it could unbalance the peace we are working to make," Vulpix said. "A peace which balances on a razor's edge. To reshape the playing field is to throw away all our advantages."

"It must happen sometime," Nitesco said. "We can't keep withstanding these crises. Celtic, Inferno, Jannis. Who next? Something must be done to stop them."

"There will be someone," Vulpix said. "Us. We and our allies. Until the time is right." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I respect her motivations, Nitesco. But only the results matter. And we cannot predict or influence those results if we try to change the playing field now."

Nitesco sighed. Austin was gone now, and the courtyard was empty except for the snow. "Perhaps you're right," he said. "Perhaps you're right."

* * *

**February 16, 11 ATC**

**Osiria Cathedral, Laevig Province, Kingdom of White Rose**

Sphinx sat in his office, penning another letter to one of his informants in Renora. The Church would fall within a month or two, Hozack told him in his last letter. Their misdirection had worked, and Jannis already deployed some of his available forces in the north to fight rebels. Over the next few weeks, his forces would trickle away even more, and then, when the time was right, he would be toppled. His informants would spread the news as fast and as wide as possible, and without Jannis, the Church would be uprooted within weeks. All that remained was to set the pieces into place.

A knock on his door disturbed him from his writing. Sphinx quickly set the letter and inkwell behind a pile of books, out of sight, before going to the door.

Sphinx slid open the eye-hatch in the door. It was one of the rank-and-file.

"Have you brought me something?" Sphinx asked.

"A letter addressed to you, sir," the soldier said. He slipped the letter through the eye-hatch. "From Representative Psiah."

"Thank you, soldier," Sphinx said, and he closed the eye-hatch and sat back down at his desk to read the letter. He tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter; as he read it, his face contorted into a malicious grin.

"Oh, Psiah, you've outdone yourself this time," he said aloud. After setting the envelope on his desk, he threw open the door and made his way out into the courtyard.

As he walked out into the courtyard, he spotted Jannis and Link standing next to a carriage, talking quietly. Link noticed Sphinx approaching and pointed to him.

Jannis turned to face Sphinx. "Viceroy," he said. "How can I help you?"

"Are you going somewhere?" Sphinx asked.

"Bumblebee," Link said. "To council with their Oligarchs."

"It's a short trip," Jannis said. "I was just about to send Link to find you. Rowing and Anti will manage our affairs while Link and I are away."

"I'm afraid I'll have to delay you, then," Sphinx said. "I've just received a letter from one of the Bumblebeean Representatives."

Jannis scanned the letter and read it aloud. "My dear friend Sphinx," he said. "Please inform Jannis that our summit with him must be postponed. We have closed our northern borders and quarantined our northern provinces because of an outbreak of," he sputtered. "Of slow fever!"

Jannis didn't bother to read the rest of the letter. He crumpled up the letter and grumbled. "Of course, an outbreak. The whole world conspires against me!"

"Who are they to defy us?" Link said. "Matters of diplomacy are important; we can't be stalled like this! If we arrive at their border, who are they to deny us entry?"

"Are you suggesting that we travel through plague-ridden provinces?" Jannis retorted. "Disease is more deadly than any weapon or army could hope to be. Men! Bring the carriage back inside! Our trip is postponed."

"I'm sorry this news inconveniences you," Sphinx said. Jannis ignored him and turned back towards the cathedral entrance. Link gave an irritated glance back to Sphinx before following Jannis inside.

"So much for being diplomatic," Sphinx muttered to himself. He turned back into the cathedral and went back to his quarters.

Once inside, he shut the door behind him and began piling kindling into the fireplace. He lit the fire and heaved a few small logs on it, and then went back to writing his letters. After a few minutes, the fire was hot and crackling loudly. Sphinx grabbed the envelope of Psiah's letter and held it face-down in the smoke billowing up the fireplace chimney. After a minute, small, black letters began materializing in the smoke. Sphinx pulled the envelope out of the smoke and read the secret writing.

_Sphinx,_ it said. _I have done as you ordered. A few drops of poison in the wells, and the whole country cries plague. It was enough to cause my fellow northern lords to close the borders. I hope this is enough to immobilize Jannis. But I also carry a warning: rumors are starting to abound that the remnants of the League are mobilizing. I would move quickly, lest Jannis find out before their swords are at his throat._

_For the common good,_

_Psiah, Representative of Melipon Province, and your sister in the Order_

Sphinx smiled as he cast the envelope into the flames and returned to writing his letters.

* * *

**March 3, 11 ATC**

**Sans City, Duchy of Filiasolis, Triumvirate of Enabler**

Austin paced about in the courtyard of Contramundi's manor, watching the falcon in the sky above her. The little light bird that had delivered the message to them in Lancaster had taken a liking to her when she found it again in Contramundi's rookery. For a few days, when the weather had cleared, she enjoyed training with it. But as much as the bird enjoyed soaring and diving, it was not keen on following Austin's direction.

The falcon dove past Austin's left arm yet again, missing her gauntlet and returning to the skies above her. Austin frowned as the disobedient bird circled around her head, seemingly quite proud of its disobedience.

"Having trouble?" Austin turned around and saw Coronam standing behind her. She smiled.

"He's quite the little shit," Austin said. "But I have faith he'll come around."

"Do you falcon?" Coronam asked. Austin shrugged.

"A bit. My father taught me a little when I was very young. I learned more as I got older." The bird swooped down toward the gauntlet again, only to pull up and away at the last second. Austin sighed. "Though it seems I still have much to learn."

Coronam smiled. "You'll have to learn later, it seems. You're wanted in the command room."

Austin sighed. "Very well. I'll be there shortly." The falcon swooped down and landed squarely on her gauntlet, surprising her.

"Oh, now you want to land, huh?" she asked. She chuckled and waved the bird away. The falcon cawed and left her arm, perching on a windowsill and watching Austin as she followed Coronam inside.

The command room was bustling with noise. Contramundi and Elyk stood by the window, examining the city's defenses, while Bluewhale, Nitesco, and Spiderplant pored over maps of the border defenses. Hozack and Vulpix were hunched over the schematics of Osiria Cathedral, graciously and covertly provided by Sphinx.

As Coronam walked over to Nitesco and his group, Austin approached Hozack and Vulpix. "Quite busy in here, isn't it?" Austin asked. Hozack looked up from the paper.

"So it seems," he said. "We've planned the operation to happen in a few days, and everyone has a different idea of how it should be done."

"The road up to the cathedral is heavily fortified," Austin observed. Vulpix sighed and crossed his arms.

"Yes, that is a problem," he said. "We'll need a lot of men to get through there. The cathedral has a whole host of defenses around it, but if we sent a team up the other side of the mountain while the main road was attacked…" Vulpix trailed off, lost in thought. "Vaniellis! Do you have the ledgers?"

Vaniellis, who was sitting alone at the end of the table, looked up from his papers. He passed a few sheets to Vulpix before returning to the rest of them, marking them and making notes in the margins.

"What does it tell us?" Austin asked.

Vulpix bit his nails. "It tells us that, while the Church has excellent defensive positions, they are lacking in manpower. If we manage to break through their border defenses and draw away the bulk of the Church's forces, the Cathedral should be vulnerable."

"It will still be difficult," Austin said. "Jannis is crafty. He will not go without taking a lot of our men with him."

"Well," Hozack said, "what other choice do we have?"

"Excuse me!" Bluewhale said. Instantly, the whole room went silent and turned their attention to him. "We have finalized the plans of attack! We have decided that the assault will take place on March 6th! If you have any questions or concerns, please see me or Nitesco after this meeting!" Bluewhale held up his map, with thousands of scribbles and notes across it, and cleared his throat.

"The Church's forces along the border are positioned so an attack at any one point will allow their soldiers to circle around and reinforce their defenses at that point. To this end, the initial attack will go as follows: all of our attacking forces will focus on a single point. When we break through, our forces will divide into three groups."

Nitesco stood up to deliver his part of the debriefing: "The first group, the right flank, will be led by General Zealander, and consist of Arkosians with League reserves. Once we break through, they will break off and engage the forces on the south side of the border. They will need to hold long enough for our forces to storm the cathedral.

"The second group, the left flank, will be led by General Vaniellis and General Spiderplant, and will consist of equal parts Arkosians and Lancastrians, with League reserves." Spiderplant and Vaniellis shot each other a glance of mutual resignation. "They will engage the forces to the north. You must prevent any forces from flanking to the Osiria mountain."

"The third group, the center, will consist of Gunnian forces, with Arkosian and Renoran reserves. Coronam, myself, Austin and Bluewhale will command this group. Once we break through, the Gunnians and the Arkosians will turn to go up the entry road to the cathedral while the Renoran reserves will ascend the north side of the mountain and attack them there. We should be able to pull off a pincer maneuver on the cathedral.

"The Enablerish forces will remain on the border to ensure no forces attempt to break through and counterattack. Elyk's mercenaries will remain near the city and break off as needed to assist in the fighting. Sound good?"

"What will Hozack be doing?" Vaniellis interjected. Hozack cast him an irritated glance.

"I will be evacuating my grandfather from Osiria Cathedral," he said. "He is the reason we are able to speak today. I will ensure that he survives to see the fruits of his labors."

The men in the room looked around and murmured in assent. As Nitesco sat down, Elyk raised his hand to speak.

"If I may ask," he said, "what is to be done when this is over? There will be Church holdouts and rebels, even with Jannis gone. And what of rebuilding what has been lost in this war? We must think about this. What will we do?"

"We must consider reforming the Diet and the Mod Council," Austin said, "in the years to come. But that is a long time away. We will cross that bridge later. In the meantime, I think we should form another league, so when the Church has fallen, we can work together to rebuild and quash the holdouts before returning to matters of governance."

"Another League?" Bluewhale asked. He huffed. "Arkos will not be beholden to another power. Not again."

"You don't propose we just give you the power?" Spiderplant asked. Bluewhale raised a hand to stop him.

"Not at all, my good sir. I propose that instead of being beholden to whomever we elect, we all work together, as one, to help the Subreddit. A coalition, instead of a league."

"What will we call it?" Vaniellis asked. Contramundi took a look out the window and smiled.

"Well, the last one was the Badaz League, right?" he asked. "For the Badaz Manor? Why not this be the Sans Coalition, for Sans City?"

"As good of a name as any other," Nitesco said. "All in favor of forming the Sans Coalition?"

"Aye!" the room responded, every man raising their hand in assent. Nitesco nodded.

"Good. We will disband for now. But the hour is near, my friends." He folded up the maps and stacked them on the table. "And we must be ready."

* * *

**March 5, 11 ATC**

**Osiria Cathedral, Laevig Province, Kingdom of White Rose**

Anti sat in the pews of the Cathedral, admiring the artistry of the main chamber. Sure, most of the mezzanine still had scaffolding around it, and in certain sections the roof was still open, but it was still masterfully constructed. Perhaps she would allow one to be built in Ladybug when she returned home.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" She turned and saw Jannis walking down the aisle, his head craned up at the ceiling. "Once the roof is put in, I'll have someone paint it. Add some pretty murals. Maybe decorate the area behind the altar."

"Will you be standing up there one day?" Anti asked. Jannis scoffed.

"No, I was never meant to be a priest," he said. "I may be Scion now, but when I have pacified this land, I will hand off the position to someone else. Rowing, perhaps."

"Would Zissman approve?" Anti asked.

"Oh, no," Jannis said. "Rowing is a moderate. Zissman was always a radical, even when he was young. Did I ever tell you about how I met him?" Anti shook her head.

"Zissman was always dodgy with his personal affairs," Anti said.

"I was nine," Jannis said. "A street urchin, begging for scraps. It was winter, and as you know, winter in the northlands is more vicious than you can imagine. I was desperate to get out of the cold, so I hid in a church's barn. The guards found me there, tried to throw me out quickly, but I made such a fuss that the local Vicar himself woke up. And when he came to see what was the matter, he brought his son with him.

"He asked his son what would be right to do with me. Usually thieves are just thrown out. But whether out of pity or something else, his son told the Vicar to send me to the Crusaders, to whip me into shape and make me a soldier."

"The boy was Zissman," Anti said. Jannis nodded.

"We were close friends after that. Thick as thieves, even as we rose in society." His smile faded, and he looked down at the ground. "But now things are different." He shook his head. "Would you go find Sphinx for me? Tell him to meet me here. I have to discuss the northern campaign with him."

"Sure," Anti said. She got up and left Jannis alone in the pews.

As she walked to Sphinx's room, she thought about Jannis and the Church. Jannis was as honest as a man in his position could be, but did he have what it would take to succeed? When he was with Zissman, he was fiery and full of zeal, but seeing him so melancholy worried her. She swallowed her doubts and turned into Sphinx's room.

The door was slightly ajar, and she could smell a fire burning in the fireplace. "Sphinx?" she called, and she rapped on the door. "It's Anti. Jannis wants to speak with you."

No response. Anti pushed the door open. His study was empty, and the door to his bedroom was open, allowing her to see that he wasn't in there either. On his desk was an envelope, a letter sitting beside it. After a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure nobody saw her, Anti picked up the letter.

It was from Hozack, and it was filled with affectionate messages and updates on the governance of Checkmate. So droll, she thought. Hozack loved his grandfather, but he would keep himself more composed in a letter containing information like this. Perhaps…

Anti looked over to the burning fire and had an idea. Smoke-ink, a special ink that only appeared when held over smoke, was a staple of the Black Order. It was heavy, though, and the letter felt light. But the envelope…

Anti grabbed the envelope and stuck it over the smoke. Within a few second, her suspicions were confirmed: thick black writing appeared on the envelope, and she pulled it out of the fire to read it.

_Grandfather,_ it read._ All goes as planned. The attack is scheduled for the sixth. Escape as soon as you can. I will meet you where we did before, at the stream, after the attack. _

_With affection,_

_Your grandson Hozack_

"Oh dear," a voice behind her said. "It seems you've seen it."

Anti whirled around. Sphinx stood there, a cocky grin on his face, watching her with the letter in her hand. Instinctively, she dropped the letter and threw the old man up against the wall.

"You horrible old snake!" she hissed. "All this time, you were using us. Betraying us! I should strangle you where you stand!"

"Then why don't you?" Sphinx asked. He laughed. "It would only take a little more pressure to crush my windpipe. Do it. Do it! Why don't you?"

"Because there's more to this than I know," she said. "And you have the answers." She let him down, and he collapsed to his knees, wheezing. Anti closed the door.

"There's nothing I can tell," he said between breaths. "That isn't in the letter. Come tomorrow, Jannis will die. There is little you can do besides flee, and we both know he won't do that."

"All this time," Anti hissed, "you were working for them. And I recommended you! I worked you into his court! I played right into your hands."

"Oh, Anti," Sphinx crooned. "You give me too much credit. This wasn't planned nearly as far back as you say. When you extended us the opportunity, I saw a chance. I fed you lies. There are no northern rebels. There are no League operatives in Rubia except in Enabler. But those are enough." He stood, having caught his breath. "But now you have the truth. What will you do?"

"Tell Jannis," she said. "He'll have you thrown in the dungeons. Or worse."

"Are you sure he could handle that?" Sphinx said. "Mentally? I know you've seen it. The man isn't anything like he used to be. And after so much, too: Austin's betrayal, Faker and Zissman dying. Another betrayal would set him over the edge."

Sphinx was moving closer now, pinning Anti between him and the bookcase. As much as she detested him, he was right. Jannis couldn't handle news like this.

"And imagine," Sphinx continued. "The scene. You drag me in. I confess. I say that I was part of a conspiracy to overthrow him. Jannis is paranoid now. He's angry and fearful. Who do his eyes drift to next in distrust, hm? Perhaps the woman who recommended me in the first place? The woman who exposes and kills me on the eve of an attack to cover her own tracks?"

"That's not true," Anti sputtered.

"It doesn't matter what's true," Sphinx growled. "It matters what he thinks. He's going down with the ship, and whether you kill me or not doesn't matter. You're going down too." He paused. "Unless…"

"Unless what?" Anti said, half-angry, half-desperate. Sphinx had outplayed them, she admitted that. And as much as she cared for Jannis, she had no plans to go down with the ship.

"Unless you do something for me," Sphinx said. "I heard you say Jannis was looking for me. Tell him I left already. Tell him I went down to Rhodon City to meet an informant. All that matters is that he thinks I'm gone for a good reason."

"How does that help me?" Anti asked. Her voice was low and apprehensive, but Sphinx knew he had her beat. He smiled maliciously.

"You do that for me," he said, "and I'll tell you how to escape the League's forces. Go over to the mezzanine and yell down to him that I've left. Then, and only then, will I tell you."

Anti sighed in defeat. "Very well," she said. "Follow me."

She led Sphinx out of his room and up the stairs to the mezzanine. Anti balled her fists. How her blood boiled! Sphinx had played them like fiddles, and there was nothing she could do about it. It would be so easy to tell Jannis. To yell to him that Sphinx was a traitor and watch him get his justice. But then she would lose her way out…

They arrived at the mezzanine, overlooking the interior of the church. The railings were wet and slippery with the evening rain, and it drizzled on the pews, but Anti saw Jannis sitting in them and he seemed to pay no mind. Sphinx leaned up against the wall and gestured for Anti to speak.

"Jannis," she called down. Jannis looked up at her, and her gut wrenched. "Sphinx has left to meet an informant in the city."

"Shame," Jannis called up. "We'll talk to him when he gets back." He turned back towards the altar and resumed his reverie.

Anti sighed and pulled away from the railing, turning back to Sphinx. He wore an insufferable grin. "Well done," he said. "I couldn't have asked for better."

"And now?" Anti asked. "Now will you help me?"

"Of course," Sphinx said. "Do you know the big stream at the base of the hill?" She nodded.

"Good. When the time comes to make your escape, follow it into the woods until the stream splits. Follow the left river up towards the Enablerish border. I'll be waiting there."

"How do I know you won't double-cross me?" Anti asked.

Sphinx chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, Anti," he said. "If I wanted you dead, I would've stuck a knife in the back of your throat while you were reading my letter and hid the body. I would've just told some guard to tell Jannis I had left and hightailed it for the city. It wouldn't have been hard; barely an inconvenience. But you have potential, Anti. For so much more."

"Like what?" Anti asked. Sphinx smiled and pulled a small necklace out of his pocket.

"To be one of us once again," he said. Anti inspected the necklace. It was a small, silver medallion with a cat-like eye engraved on the front. She took it from his hand and saw that, on the other side, a Ladybug was engraved on it.

"This is my medallion," she said. She looked up at Sphinx. "You kept it for all these years?"

"Of course," Sphinx said. He plucked it from her hand and undid the clasp at the back. "I knew you'd return to us, one way or another. Wouldn't it be nice to be with us once again?"

He drew her in, reaching behind her neck to lock the clasp. Anti heard the clasp click into place and looked down. The medallion hung below her collar, the eye looking back at her knowingly.

"Don't worry, Anti," Sphinx whispered in her ear. "I would never betray my sister. For the common good."

"For the common good," Anti echoed, and when she looked up, Sphinx was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**March 6, 11 ATC**

**Enabler-White Rose Border**

Various stood in the rain, squinting into the distance to see if he could see Osiria Cathedral. The men were lined up in their battalions down the ridge on either side of him, poised to strike the Church legions on the other side of their narrow border. All that remained was to give the order.

In the distance, he managed to catch a glimpse of Osiria Cathedral, a gargantuan building surrounded by low defensive walls. It sat atop an oddly-shaped yet small mountain, with the south side declining gently while the north end, the end he would be climbing up, offered more of a steep, rocky incline. The south road up to the fortress entrance was flanked on either side by tall walls and towers to watch any visitors or intruders. It would be difficult to penetrate.

As he took a seat on a wet log, he saw Austin and Nitesco trudging up the hill, soaked to the bone by the sudden rain. Behind them, Coronam followed, his glaive resting on his shoulder. Nitesco sat down next to Various on the log.

"Wonderful weather we're having," Nitesco said. "It'll take a whole tub of grease to keep my leg from rusting up."

"And the leather will probably start flaking," Austin said, pointing to her eyepatch. "But that's easily replaced."

"Who are we waiting for?" Coronam asked.

"The good admiral," Various said. He scoffed. "The fop. Probably greasing his hair."

"There's no need to be unpleasant," Nitesco said.

"I think we both know that's not true."

They heard crunching from the path up to the hill, and noticed that Bluewhale had come to meet them. He had a large, round shield in his right hand and a mace in his left. He stopped and raised his mace in the air.

"It's time for battle!" he announced. Various sighed.

"Yes, it is," he said. "And remember, I get first pick of the vaults."

Austin nodded. "As per our agreement."

"Very good," Various said. "Coronam, I'm with you. We'll scale the hill together."

"Glad to have you," Coronam said. "Now remember, I'm in front. These are my men you're running with."

"Are we ready now?" Nitesco asked. "Should I send out the runner?"

The commanders looked around, nodding in unison. "Yes," Bluewhale said. "The time has come. Let's finish this!"

"Spare me the dramatic flourish, please," Various said. Coronam sighed.

"Save the posturing for Jannis," he said. "Today, we have a job to do."

* * *

Jannis was in a meeting when he got the news. When Strike rushed in and nearly knocked over Rowing, he knew it was bad: an assassin, perhaps, or a local insurrection. But when he and his council went to the walls and saw soldiers streaming down the hills, beelining toward the road up to the cathedral, he knew the situation was far, far worse.

"The men on our flanks are being slowed by their flanks," Strike said. "They knew exactly where to hit us. This must have been in the works for a while."

"What will we do?" Anti asked.

Jannis balled his fists. "The nerve of these traitors, to challenge us not once but twice in our place of power! This time, we will not let them escape. Strike, prepare the defenses on the road, Link, wake up the garrison and arm them. I'll lead the garrison myself."

"Of course," Strike said. Immediately, he and Link started moving.

"And what are Anti and I to do?" Rowing asked.

"Stay in the cathedral," Jannis said. "Bar as many entrances as you can. Keep the priests and the servants out of harm's way."

"And if they get in?" Anti asked.

Jannis frowned. "Then take as many of them with you as you can." Without another word, he followed Strike down the walls, to the courtyard, leaving Anti and Rowing alone.

"Shit," Rowing muttered. "Link! Did he leave already?"

"I'd wager that he's not going to help you escape," Anti said. Rowing tensed.

"You know?" he asked.

"I suspected," Anti said. "But now's not the time for words."

"And what is it the time for?" Rowing asked.

Anti stopped. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked. "Escaping."

* * *

Approaching the hill wasn't hard. Most of the enemy soldiers were preoccupied with the flanks, and even if they saw the Coalition's center streaming down the hill, they could do nothing to stop them. It was the march up the hill itself that posed the problem.

Austin ordered her troops to halt just beyond the range of the Church archers. The road up the hill was heavily fortified: on either side, the road was flanked by high walls and guard towers manned by knights and archers.

"How's it look?" Nitesco asked.

"Lots of archers," she said. "Plenty of knights. They'll drop down to skirmish as soon as we march through."

"Wouldn't that make the archers less accurate, if their men are in the fray?" Bluewhale asked.

Austin shook her head. "I doubt it. They're more than willing to fire on them if there's a chance they hit one of our troops."

"Then we'll go in phalanx formation," Nitesco said. "Put the spearman on the sides and keep the skirmishers just behind them in case their soldiers get too close."

"Sounds like a plan," Bluewhale said. "Men! Form up! Phalanx formation, like we practiced!"

The men quickly fell in line, the spearmen at the edges and the other soldiers in the middle. As Austin watched, Nitesco put his hand on her shoulder.

"Stay safe," he said. "Stay in the middle. No heroics until we're past the gate."

Austin grinned. "Funny, I was about to tell you the same thing."

"Alright, men!" Bluewhale bellowed. "Forward!"

Austin and Nitesco weaseled their way into the middle as the phalanx began lurching up the hill. Though caught in between the hundreds of men around her, Austin could feel the pummel of arrows on her shield. As they marched further and further up the path, she heard a sudden clamor behind her.

"Sir!" A man said. "The Church soldiers! They're coming up behind us!"

"What?" Austin said. She glanced behind her, and saw that the back end of the phalanx was coming apart. Halfway up the road, was the closed portcullis. On the walkway above it was the winch that operated it. Austin sighed.

"Okay," she hollered. "Here's the plan. Abandon formation, book it up the path and hunker down in front of the portcullis. I'm going to take a team up the onto the walls to open the portcullis. Any volunteers?"

"Aye!" Several soldiers cried out. Austin nodded.

"Alright. Let's go! Break formation! Charge!"

As the middle section dispersed on her command, the front of the phalanx broke apart as well, going at a dead sprint toward the portcullis. As Austin joined them, her volunteers behind her, Nitesco pulled up alongside her.

"Austin!" he hissed. "What are you doing?"

"Getting that gate open," she said. "Nitesco, I need you to hunker down in front of the portcullis. Their forces cannot scatter us, understood?"

"What? Why did—" Nitesco sighed. "Fine. It's too late to countermand the orders. But I hope you know what you're doing."

"I hope so, too," she muttered. Her volunteers pulled aside with her, darting up a staircase that led to the top of the road wall. Instantly, they were surrounded by archers and soldiers, and they were in the thick of battle.

Austin hewed her way down the wall, trying to make her way over to the winch. She cut through an archer, and then a soldier, and then another distracted archer, but for each one she cut down another appeared. She looked behind her and saw that her volunteers were mired in similar situations.

"Shit," she muttered. Another soldier tried to attack her, but Austin sidestepped him and hoisted him over the wall. Her soldiers began falling in around her, but there were simply too many.

"Sir, what do we do?" One of them asked. Austin pursed her lips and looked around her. There had to be some way…

Suddenly, she saw it: on the wall on the opposite side of the road, she saw Arkosian soldiers charging up the steps, with Bluewhale at the helm. Bluewhale mashed a soldier's head in with his mace and turned to Austin. He pointed at the stairs she had come up on and Austin saw that Arkosian soldiers were coming up the walls to assist her. Austin breathed a sigh of relief.

"Men!" she bellowed. "Form up! Charge!"

With the Arkosians to inflate their numbers, Austin's team charged up the walls, and Austin hung back as the Arkosian and Gunnian spearmen skewered their opposition. As they hacked their way through the Church garrison, Austin made her way over to the winch. Below, Nitesco and his soldiers were holding strong, even though most of the men on the walls had pinned them against the gate.

"Hang on!" Austin yelled down, and she began turning the winch. The portcullis came up just enough let their soldiers through, streaming into the sparsely-defended courtyard as others swept along the walls. As the last of their soldiers made it through, she cut the winch rope, bringing down the portcullis on top of a few unfortunate Church soldiers and closing the rest of them out. "It worked!" A few of her soldiers exclaimed, but Austin took no time to celebrate. She turned her attention to the courtyard.

There seemed to be few Church soldiers there, and those were quickly being dispatched. As she scanned the fray, she spotted Nitesco in the middle of it, and descended into the courtyard to join him.

"Nitesco!" she cried. As Nitesco cut down another Church soldier, he looked up and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Austin! I can't believe that worked." He relaxed and took a look around. "Looks like our men are doing good work here. We'll be in the cathedral in no time at all."

"Ah, today is a good day!" they heard Bluewhale exclaim. His pristine crimson uniform was sullied by blood, but he looked proud of himself. "Quite the gamble. But now we're inside."

"Yes," Austin said. "Now it's just a matter of—"

At once, she was interrupted by the cathedral doors opening, and a swarm of Church soldiers flowed out of them. Their men were taken by surprise, and Austin was forced to retreat as the soldiers fell upon the men near her. Through a haze of blood, Austin saw two men come out behind the rest of their soldiers: Strike, brandishing his saber, and Jannis, fully clad in red armor, clutching his longsword and his shield.

"Jannis," Nitesco said. His face contorted in rage. "Jannis!" he screamed. Jannis and Strike looked at him with contempt.

"Of course it's you," Jannis said. "Nitesco. And you brought that hanger-on harlot of yours all the way here just to die with you."

"Give up, Jannis," Austin said. "You're surrounded and outnumbered. Nobody else has to die."

"If I destroy this incursion here," Jannis said, "then I stamp out your rebellion for good. Nobody will be left to stand against me."

"You underestimate us," Nitesco said.

"And you underestimate us!" Strike interjected. "It was you who—"

"Shut up, traitor!" Bluewhale bellowed. With a war cry, he raised his mace and charged at Strike. Strike raised his saber to deflect Bluewhale's attack the best he could.

As Strike dueled Bluewhale, Jannis stepped out to engage Nitesco and Austin. "A pity it took you so long to try this again," Jannis said as he sized up his opponents. "I always wanted to take both of you on at once. Now is my chance."

"Shut up and die," Nitesco said. He charged Jannis, furiously swinging and stabbing at Jannis, enough to keep him on the defensive without exposing himself to a riposte. Austin joined in the attack, pressuring Jannis, who kept her at bay with his shield.

"You're very eager," Jannis said. "Both of you. I would've thought you'd have more restraint after your lesson at Fort Bombus."

"We learned a lot that day," Austin said. "We learned that you're no better than Zissman."

"Zissman was a great leader," Jannis said. He parried Austin's sword and kicked her in the shin. "Far better than either of you."

As Jannis swung his sword down at Austin, Nitesco blocked it with his own. "If he was so great," Nitesco growled, "then why is he dead and we alive?"

"Because you're cowards and liars," Jannis sneered. He whirled his blade at Nitesco, but Nitesco deflected. "Who can't win a battle fairly. It's why you lost then. It's why you'll die now."

"I wouldn't be so sure!" Austin exclaimed. She lunged at Jannis, but only managed to chip his shield. "It's two on one."

"It was two on one there too," Jannis said. "Zealander and Gwydion. Gwydion paid the price for his hubris in blood."

Nitesco's face contorted into an angry grimace. "He was a better man than you'll ever be!" he screamed. He swung his sword as hard as he could at Jannis, but Jannis merely stepped away, leading Nitesco to whiff and stumble.

"He's a ghost now," Jannis said. He raised his sword overhead. "Say hello to him for me."

Austin lunged at Jannis, shoving her sword in between them, stopping Jannis's sword just before it connected with Nitesco's head. "Tell him yourself," she growled.

Jannis grit his teeth and struck Austin with the stomach with his shield. He watched as Austin stumbled to the ground, wondering whether to attack her or Nitesco, but then saw the situation in the courtyard. His soldiers were almost entirely overrun now despite having the element of surprise, and several League soldiers were barreling at him. Two or three, he could handle, but not with Nitesco or Austin on their side.

He looked to Strike, who was up near the stairs, still fighting with Bluewhale. A pity. He had hoped that Bluewhale would be merciful. Jannis turned and fled into the cathedral.

"Jannis!" Nitesco shouted. He grabbed his sword and got to his feet, following Jannis and the soldiers chasing him. Austin, out of breath, struggled to get up in time to follow him.

"Nitesco! Wait!" she cried. It was too late: as Jannis ran into the cathedral, he sliced a rope connected to another, inner portcullis. It closed with Nitesco behind it, locking him in.

"Nitesco!" Austin cried. Nitesco stopped and turned while the soldiers chased Jannis into the cathedral hallways. "Nitesco, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Nitesco said. "Didn't expect the bastard to have two portcullises, but I'm okay."

"Don't go after him," Austin said. "Wait for the rest of us. He's too strong for you to face alone!"

"I can't let him escape, either," Nitesco said. "I have three soldiers with me; I'll be fine. See if you can find another way in." He turned to pursue Jannis again.

"Nitesco, wait," Austin said. She sighed. "You can't end up like Gwydion. Come back, okay?"

Nitesco forced a smile. "Fingers crossed," he said. He held up two crossed fingers and went deeper into the cathedral.

Austin returned to the courtyard, where her men were finishing off the last of the Church's garrison. A small half-circle had formed around Bluewhale and Strike, with Bluewhale keeping one hand up to stop them from getting involved.

"You betrayed Arkos!" Bluewhale bellowed, holding up his mace to block Strike's swings. "You abandoned our country for these charlatans!"

"I did it because Zealander's soldiers turned on me!" Strike said. "He left me to die at Guns N' Roses! He and those who support him cannot be allowed to drag Arkos through the mud any longer!"

"Arkos will rise again," Bluewhale said. "With or without you, _Colonel_." Strike stabbed at him, but Bluewhale knocked it away and smashed Strike's hand with the mace. Strike screamed and let his sword go flying, and he clutched his broken hand.

"It's General," Strike sneered. "I earned that title long ago."

"And now," Bluewhale said, "the only thing you'll earn is a prison cell." He beckoned to a few of his soldiers. "Show's over. Tie him up. We'll see him locked up for his crimes."

"Yes, sir," the soldiers said. As they grabbed Strike and wrestled him to his knees, he screamed and winced in pain.

"This isn't over," he yelled. "I will restore Arkos! I will see all those that hold it back in the grave!"

"What a pitiful man," Austin said. She turned to Bluewhale. "Nitesco's been locked inside, with Jannis."

"Locked inside?" Bluewhale asked. "How did that happen?"

"No time," Austin said. "Have you sent your men up on the walls?" Bluewhale nodded.

"Good," Austin said. "I saw on Sphinx's schematics that they would barricade all the doors in case of an invasion, but we can probably still get in on the second or third floor through a window."

"Well, then," Bluewhale said. "What are we waiting for?"

* * *

As Austin ran back into the courtyard, Nitesco brandished his sword and went further into the cathedral. He tried the doors that led to the main chamber. Barricaded. Unlocked, but enough was behind them that they wouldn't budge.

"Shit," Nitesco muttered. He looked around. A hallway led off to his right, deeper into the cathedral. He followed the hallway and was soon lost in the labyrinthine hallways of the cathedral.

"Jannis!" Nitesco cried. "Where are you! Come out and face me!"

He turned another corner and heard clanging swords. He broke into a sprint, doing his best to follow the sound through the corridors, and finally came out in a small room.

Another atrium, decorated with a few statues. Two bodies on the ground. Close to him, a young man, slumped up against the wall with a sword in his chest. Across from him, a woman's body, missing her head. Nitesco swallowed and continued.

The atrium led into the cathedral proper, and once inside, Nitesco marveled at it. Though it belonged to Jannis, it was still beautiful. The architecture was intricately sculpted, and every free wall had a skillfully painted mural on in. The pews radiated outward from a central stage, which was drenched in rain from the hole in the roof. Jannis stood there, over another body, freshly killed. He kicked the body aside and looked up at Nitesco.

"Nitesco," he said. "I've cut down the chaff. Now it can be just you and me."

"Let's not pretend this is anything other than what it is," Nitesco said. "You're afraid. You know you couldn't beat me with backup, so you killed them to face me alone."

"Why do you care?" Jannis growled. "You say that like this could end in any other way than bloodshed."

"It can, Jannis," Nitesco said. "Surrender. You'll get a fair trial. It doesn't have to be this way."

"You're the one who's making it so!" Jannis screamed. He brandished his longsword. "This can only end with one of us left standing. Let's see who that is."

"Fine," Nitesco said. He pointed his sword at Jannis. "Gwydion, this is for you!"

Nitesco struck first, sprinting up to Jannis and unleashing a flurry of sword swipes. Jannis held his shield up to block them, but each one came faster than the last, and Jannis found his stamina draining.

"Don't tucker yourself out," Jannis sneered. He brought his longsword down at Nitesco, but missed. "It's a bit too soon for that."

"Don't get your hopes up," Nitesco said. He locked swords with Jannis again.

"Oh really?" Jannis said. He pressed his weight into his sword, forcing Nitesco back. "I can see your concentration slipping. Let go. Embrace your death."

"Never!" Nitesco shouted. Jannis felt Nitesco's knee strike him in the crotch. He groaned in pain and shoved Nitesco away.

"I'll never give up," Nitesco said. "Not until I'm in the ground."

"Gwydion said something to that effect," Jannis said. Nitesco's eye twitched, and Jannis smirked. "Oh, yes, he was quite eager to put _me_ in the ground. Pity he didn't take the chance to surrender when I offered it to him."

"He will have justice," Nitesco said.

"And Zissman will have vengeance!" Jannis said. "Vengeance for him, for Draco, and for Faker, on you and all your allies!"

"Vengeance, huh?" Nitesco said. He ducked under a swipe from Jannis and barely missed his riposte. "Not very holy of you."

Jannis pushed, bringing blow after blow down in Nitesco's direction. Nitesco parried each one with increasing difficulty until Jannis finally bashed him in the face with his shield.

"Forget the Goddess," Jannis said. "This is for me."

Before Nitesco could retake control of the fight, Jannis began swinging his sword and shield at Nitesco with abandon, forcing him back. Every strike had incredible strength behind it, wearing Nitesco down with every strike he weathered. Nitesco felt Jannis's sword chip his arm and Jannis's shield bruise his shoulder. He put all of his energy into staving off what damage he could. Jannis hurled himself into the last few strikes, draining the last of Nitesco's stamina, and sent him to his knees with a shield bash to the gut. Nitesco sank to the ground, coughing up blood.

Jannis stood over him, proud and exhausted from the effort. "Any last words?" he asked.

Nitesco looked up at the open roof, watching the rain pour down, and prepared himself. Then, something caught his eye. On the mezzanine, two people looked down at him, and through the haze of his beating, he recognized one of them.

"Austin!" he cried. Jannis's expression changed to one of surprise and he turned toward the balcony. True to Nitesco's word, Austin and Bluewhale looked down on them, seemingly saying something, but Nitesco couldn't hear it.

"Shit," Jannis muttered. He slammed his shield into the side of Nitesco's head, sending him into a deep sleep.

* * *

Anti and Rowing ransacked Sphinx's quarters, frantically looking for anything that could help them escape. Anti had checked and double-checked the cathedral's schematics after her talk with Sphinx, but found no secret exit. Yet Sphinx had escaped the cathedral without any of the guards seeing him. Could he have really dug a secret exit in the few months he was with them? Anti pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course he could have. He was Sphinx.

"Why here?" Rowing asked. He flipped over another table. "Why would Sphinx of all people have this?"

"Because," Anti said, rifling through the books of Sphinx's many bookshelves. "He escaped last night without anyone spotting him! He must have a secret passage somewhere."

"And why did this happen?" Rowing asked. Anti did not like the suspicion in his tone, even if it was warranted.

"We can't worry about that now," Anti said. Think. Papers, notes, schematics. Where to hide them?

"Escaped, huh?" Rowing said. He poked his head in Sphinx's bedroom, but there was nothing there except the dressers and the bed they had already ransacked. "So he knew this was coming."

"Not the time," Anti said. She combed the mantlepiece above the fireplace. Nothing.

"And if you know that he "escaped" instead of "left,"" Rowing said. "It follows that you knew about this too, didn't you?"

"And what if I did?" Anti said, and her hands drifted to the daggers at her side. "What then?"

"Nothing," Rowing said. "It's my own fault for not seeing it sooner, and I won't turn down the aid of someone who's trying to help. Speaking of, why help me? Why not come here on your own and comb through this yourself?"

"Because two pairs of eyes are better than one," Anti said. "And you're the only one who is smart enough and selfish enough to be of use to me."

"Why thank you," Rowing said sarcastically. He got down on the floor with Anti and began combing through the papers that had been knocked on the floor. "We'd best find whatever it is soon, before the enemy burns this cathedral down with us inside it."

Anti picked up a half-written letter, addressed to Hozack. Something clicked in her mind.

"Burns. That's it!" she exclaimed. She set the letter aside and threw several scraps of paper and books into the fireplace.

"What are you doing?" Rowing asked.

"No time to explain," Anti said. "Quick, grab a match and light this up!"

Rowing grumbled, but obeyed, grabbing a matchbox and a match from the mantle. He struck a match and tossed it into the fireplace, and the paper instantly caught fire. Anti held up the envelope.

"I found it," she said. "Our ticket out of here." She stuck the letter in the smoke.

"What are you doing!" Rowing exclaimed. "Are you mad?"

"Just wait," she said. A few moments later, lines began appearing in the smoke. A crude drawing of a well appeared.

"A well?" Rowing said. He sounded disappointed. "How does that help us?"

"There's a well near the barracks," Anti said. "It feeds from a small cave beneath this mountain, which the river drains into. If we can get out there, we can get to safety without anyone seeing us."

"What then?" Rowing asked. "If we get out, the enemy soldiers surely know who we are. Where do we go from there?"

"I have a contact," Anti said. "He agreed to take me to safety when I escaped. I'm sure he'll take you too."

"You really did have this all planned out, didn't you?" Rowing said. Anti frowned and tossed the letter in the fire.

"And we're lucky for that," she said. "Come on!"

They hurried out the door, running through the hallways and arriving at the mezzanine. Down a few more flights of stairs and they would be out near the garrison, practically home free. Just a little farther.

As they walked across the mezzanine, they heard the sound of a door breaking open. On the balcony across from them, they saw two people, a man and a woman, emerge from the door, which led out to the defensive wall. One wore an Arkosian officer's uniform. And the other…

"Austin!" Anti shouted. Austin and her accomplice saw Anti and Rowing from across the cathedral. They were on opposite sides of the mezzanine, but they could easily circle around and take them.

"Anti!" Austin screamed. Her face contorted in anger, and her hand flew to her sword, only for the Arkosian to grab her by the shoulder. He pointed down into the main area of the cathedral, and Austin and Rowing followed his gaze.

"Austin!" A voice from below cried out. Rowing and Anti peered over the railing, as did Austin and Bluewhale. Jannis was down there, looking up at the mezzanine, and Nitesco was down there with him, battered and on his knees. Jannis struck the man unconscious with his shield and peered back up at them.

"Jannis!" Austin exclaimed. "Don't you lay a finger on him!"

"Too late for that!" Jannis said. "Come down here and let's finish—" He stopped abruptly as he saw Rowing and Anti. The anger and indignation in his eyes were replaced by betrayed shock.

"Oh, by the Goddess," Rowing said. "Why did he have to see us?" He backed away and started down the stairs that led to the garrison, leaving Anti alone.

Austin's eyes flashed with anger and indecision, flitting from Jannis, to Anti, back to Jannis. At last, she sheathed her sword and beckoned for the Arkosian to follow. As Austin made her way to the stairs down to the cathedral proper, Anti took a final look at Jannis. He was no longer angry; his expression had changed to one of grim acceptance. He turned away from her and paced over to the altar to wait for Austin and her friend to arrive.

"Goodbye, Jannis," Anti said. She turned away from the altar and went to follow Rowing.

* * *

Coronam's forces were almost up the mountain when the attack reached the cathedral. The guards on the walls above them were roused to action, constantly buzzing about the walls. Most were deployed to the front of the cathedral, where Austin, Nitesco, and Bluewhale were making their attack. The precious few that remained would be hopelessly outnumbered by their soldiers.

"Keeping up, old man?" Various said. He dug his falx into the ground above him. The mountain wasn't too steep, so their men could climb reasonably fast, but Various had an edge. His falx was curved and sharp on the inside edge, letting him use it as a hook. He had been one of the last to start climb, and now he was ahead of Coronam.

"To hell with you, Various," Coronam yelled. "You're older than I am."

"I don't feel like it," Various said. He chuckled. "Maybe I just get better with age."

"Stop mouthing and keep climbing," Coronam said. Various rolled his eyes and ascended the rest of the way in silence.

Coronam soon caught up with Various, and eventually the men they had with them were all assembled near the edge of the cliff. As they waited for the stragglers, Coronam cracked his knuckles and stood to address them.

"Alright," he said. "Here's the plan: most of the soldiers will be away by now, so we will encounter decreased resistance. We are going to storm the barracks. Kill anyone who raises a sword against you. Incapacitate those who don't. If you recognize any high-profile targets, attempt to take them prisoner instead."

"Once we sweep the barracks," Various said. "You will divide into three teams, as we discussed. The first team will sweep along the south wall, the second will sweep the north. The third team will remain in the barracks to supervise any prisoners we may capture. Are we understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the soldiers responded. Various nodded.

"Excellent. After you, my liege," he said, bowing. Coronam rolled his eyes.

"Save the comedy for the theater," he said. "Men! Form up! Up and over!"

The defensive wall was incomplete; only the inner layer of the wall was fully constructed, allowing the men to scale it with ease. The men above, so focused on rallying to the battle at the front of the fort, didn't notice the Renorans until it was too late.

"Renorans!" One man finally yelled, but the Renorans were already on top of them. A few scattered soldiers on the walls frantically tried to mount a defense, but they were overrun without much of a fight.

"Down!" Coronam bellowed. He relieved a Church archer of his head and pointed down at the barracks, a large set of wooden buildings separate from the cathedral. "Down to the barracks!"

His men obeyed, charging down into the clearing, where they were met with resistance. A large group of Church soldiers emerged from the barracks, disheveled but heavily armed. As Coronam charged into the fray, Various leaped ahead of him and buried his falx in a frightened White Rose officer.

"Coming, Coronam?" he asked. Two more soldiers came at him; he gutted one with his falx. The other one he grabbed by the collar and threw at Coronam. As the man stumbled toward him, Coronam rammed his glaive into his ribs and killed him instantly.

"You know," Coronam said, removing his glaive from the man. "I could do without your 'assistance'."

"But that wouldn't be so fun, would it?" Various said. He ducked as Coronam lunged over him, allowing Coronam to disembowel the man behind him. "You're cutting it a bit close there yourself," he commented.

Coronam sighed. "Oh, shut up."

They turned back toward the din of battle, and they noticed a particularly oddly-dressed man had appeared at the wall where his soldiers had been just moments ago. He wore a nobleman's battle armor, iron embossed with silver, and a bright white rose was on the front of his breastplate. Curiously, the man also wore a bright red scarf over his face. On either side of him, two Church Crusaders kept the Renorans away while the man barked orders.

"Soldiers!" the scarved man bellowed. "Fight your hardest! We can repel these invaders."

"Shall we?" Coronam asked. He spoke to nobody. Various was already on his way over to the scarved commander. Coronam ran to catch up.

"That's a nice scarf," Various said as he cut down another soldier. "Take it off so I can hear you more clearly."

"My name is Viscount Link of Snowflake Protection," the man said with obvious pride. "And I will not be belittled by a malcontent like you!"

"Too late!" Coronam called up. The Church Crusaders glanced at Link for orders. He nodded.

"Clean up this filth," Link said. Before he could respond, Various charged at them, locking swords with one of the Crusaders. Link drew his rapier and tried to counterattack.

"Damn it, Various!" Coronam yelled. He lunged at the other Church Crusaders, and was deflected. With a spin, he reignited his attack, whirling and slashing at the Crusader.

"Back, back!" Link cried. As Coronam engaged the one on his right, Various took the one on the left. Link shuffled between the two, struck with indecision, before settling on Various. "Take this, mercenary!" he shouted.

"Mercenary?" Various said. He locked swords with his knight and pushed him away before dodging a stab from Link. "I'm no mercenary!"

"You look like one," Link said. Various sighed.

"Would a mercenary… have this?!" he yelled. From his belt, he detached what looked like a large fishing net. He tossed it at Link and watched with satisfaction as it unfurled mid-flight, ensnaring Link and forcing him to the ground like a trapped rabbit. Various ignored Link's screams and thrashing as he resumed his attack on the Church knight.

"Yes!" Link protested. Various ignored him. As the Church knight swung blindly at Various, he slipped under the blade and drew his falx along the knight's stomach. The man screamed and clutched at his wound, looking up just in time to see Various charging at him before colliding with him and knocking him off the wall into the courtyard below.

Coronam dodged his opponent's swipes and stabs, spinning his glaive in wide arcs above his head. Finally, he saw an opening; he feinted left, and the knight moved to meet him. Coronam swung his blade to the right, and the knight stumbled. He rammed his glaive's guisarme into the knight's throat before swinging the glaive back around to decapitate his opponent.

"Good show," Various said. He looked to the trapped Link, who struggled in vain to escape Various's net, and laughed. "I love using that trick. They always look so surprised."

"How long have you been carrying that around?" Coronam asked. Various shrugged.

"Since I got here," he said. "Why?"

"Why didn't you use that earlier?" Coronam asked.

Various frowned. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to refold that thing?"

"I guess I never thought of that," Coronam said. He pointed at Link. "Looks like the men down there are almost finished up. What do we do with him?"

"We take him prisoner, like you said," Various said. "Not a big fan of prisoners, but you're the boss here."

"Very well. You two!" Coronam barked at two men near him. "Take this poor bastard down with the rest of the prisoners. Various and I will be headed inside."

"As you wish, sir," one of them responded. As they dragged Link away, Coronam and Various departed for the cathedral.

* * *

As Austin descended to the cathedral floor with Bluewhale, her heart raced in her chest. Nitesco. Anti. Jannis. Her head was spinning, but she knew that Nitesco was on the floor of the cathedral, not yet dead. He would be, though, if she didn't act quickly.

They found Jannis standing beneath the open roof, letting the rain fall on him. He stared solemnly at the ground, ignoring Nitesco.

"Well," Jannis said. "Isn't this funny? I imagined that it would come down to me and you, alone, but I didn't think I'd be so…accurate." He frowned and gestured to Bluewhale. "Though he's killing the mood."

"Excuse you," Bluewhale said. "I am Admiral Bluewhale, Oligarch of Arkos, and the only thing I'll be killing here is you!"

"I am Jannis of the Church of Thorns," Jannis said. "And I grow tired of words."

"Then let's finish this," Austin said. Jannis smirked.

"I couldn't agree more," he said. "Come!"

Austin and Bluewhale began circling around Jannis, who kept turning, swiveling to keep them in his field of vision. Eventually, he ignored Bluewhale altogether and focused on Austin.

"I knew it would be you," Jannis said. "Even if you only pretended to agree with us, I know you understand us. Nitesco never did. But you did. The moment I saw you at Fort Bombus, I knew it would come down to you and I."

Austin lunged at him. Jannis knocked her sword away and weathered a blow from Bluewhale's mace with his shield. Austin stepped back to resume circling, and Jannis kicked Bluewhale away.

Austin charged him with full force, swinging her sword hard enough to chip his on contact. Bluewhale bellowed and wound up his mace, swinging it as hard as he could at Jannis. Jannis backpedaled, and the swing almost knocked the sword from Austin's hand instead.

"Nice try, Austin," Jannis said. He readied his sword and shield. "Your little mind games won't work on me."

"I don't need mind games," Austin said. "Anti and that priest just left you. We're dealing with all your men outside. You're alone."

"Rowing," Jannis said.

"Hm?"

"His name is Rowing," Jannis said. "And those traitors will be killed once I'm through with you."

"Aren't I a traitor?" Austin asked. "Aren't I still alive?"

"Not for much longer," Jannis said. Bluewhale charged at him again, swinging his mace fiercely, engaging Jannis long enough for Austin to lance him in the cheek. Jannis grunted and struck Bluewhale in the hip with his shield, forcing him to back away while he returned his focus to Austin.

"You shouldn't ignore Bluewhale," Austin said. Jannis reared up to attack and swung down, but Austin backed up just in time. The longsword fell into the ground just in front of her.

"I'll kill him when I'm done with you," he said.

"This isn't about just her," Bluewhale said. Another flurry of mace attacks. Austin resumed her attack at the same time. Jannis blocked and deflected as best he could, but some blows still skimmed his armor. "It's about all of us. Every nation you've harmed in your path to power! It's about Arkos! This is our retribution!"

"I could give a shit about you!" Jannis said. He roared and swung his longsword in a wide arc. Austin barely dodged it, but it connected with Bluewhale's mace, twisting it in his hand. He staggered backward and, for the first time in the fight, Jannis turned his attention to him.

"You're all disobedient children, flailing against authority!" Jannis yelled. Bluewhale swung, but Jannis met his attack with his own, knocking the mace from his hand and driving him to the floor. Austin charged, but Jannis turned to knock her in the shoulder with his shield. She tumbled to the ground and he returned his focus to Bluewhale.

"And the disobedient," Jannis said, his voice barely a whisper, "always get their punishment." He raised his sword and brought it down at Bluewhale.

It didn't connect. Jannis turned to see Austin's sword holding his back. He growled and brought his sword back up, and he focused on her while Bluewhale scrambled for his mace.

"You saved him," Jannis observed, "when you could've killed me."

"I'm principled like that," Austin said. Jannis grit his teeth.

"More like foolish," Jannis said. "Gwydion made the same mistake. It cost him his life!"

Jannis reared up like a cat and brought his sword and shield down on Austin in quick, splitting blows. He put everything he had into his feral attacks, his shield splintering and his sword sparking on Austin's blade as she desperately tried to weather his attacks. With a final cry, Jannis brought them both down on her, and as she tried to counterattack, he disarmed her. Her wrist twisted, and she hissed in pain as she fell, slumping against the altar. Bluewhale bellowed and began to charge Jannis, who turned and struck him square in the chest with his shield. A sizeable piece of wood broke off the corner as he rammed it into Bluewhale's ribs, knocking the man to the floor.

"And look at that!" Jannis said, a sadistic tone in his voice. "It ended the same." He brought the tip of his blade inches from Austin's chin. "Any last words?"

"Not for you," she growled. Jannis frowned.

"At least you aren't begging," Jannis said. "But I see it in your eyes. You're afraid, aren't you?"

Austin felt tears in her eye, and tried to blink them away. She stayed silent.

"You're sad," Jannis said. "You think you failed."

Austin stared back at him hatefully. Jannis frowned.

"Be that way," Jannis said. "But you know you did. You failed them, and now you will die here, alone."

"She's not alone!" a voice said.

"And she won't be dying today," another voice said.

Jannis turned and saw, to his horror, that two others had joined the fray. His breathing was heavy. His energy was depleted. Before he could move to kill Austin, she scrambled out of his range.

"Coronam!" Austin shouted. "Various!"

"In the flesh," Various said. He and Coronam readied their weapons. "Ready, Coronam?"

"For a long time now," Coronam said. Jannis hissed. Austin crept toward her weapon.

"This won't change anything," he said. "You'll die, just like— Hey!" Austin dove for her sword, barely dodging a strike from Jannis.

"Little shit!" Jannis cried. He turned his attention to Coronam and Various, who were approaching him. Coronam reached him first, poised to bring his glaive down on Jannis. Jannis raised his shield to block the strike, and readied his sword to stab Coronam in the stomach.

With the last of her strength, Austin swung her sword up, through Jannis's right arm, severing it. His hand and the sword in it fell to the ground in a bloody mess, and Jannis screamed.

Coronam rammed his guisarme into Jannis's shield and swung back, ripping it from his hands. As Jannis stumbled forward, Various swung his falx at his head. Jannis struggled to right himself, but not enough to prevent Various's falx from ripping through his eyes.

"Agh!" he screamed. "You bastards!" He stumbled blindly backwards, towards Bluewhale. From the ground, Bluewhale brought his mace into Jannis's right leg. It landed, and with a sickening crunch, Jannis fell to the ground.

"No!" Jannis hissed, blindly swinging with his remaining arm in front of him. "Get away! I'll—" He was interrupted as a man crept up behind him and rammed a sword into his stomach.

All four of them looked up. Nitesco, badly bruised and bleeding, stood over Jannis, watching as Jannis gurgled and clutched at the sword in his gut.

"That's for Gwydion," Nitesco said. He wrenched the sword from Jannis's stomach, and Jannis screamed again. "I hope that makes it up to him."

Jannis grunted on the ground, clutching his wound, and began to laugh a hoarse, weary laugh. "Is that what this is all about?" he gasped. "Revenge?"

"Not just revenge," Nitesco said. "Justice."

"To preserve my people," Bluewhale said.

"To protect the innocent," Austin said.

"To prevent tyranny," Coronam said.

"People like you aren't worth the shit they make," Various said, squatting down next to Jannis. "I'm glad to see you go. I hope your Goddess has a special place in hell for you."

"Oh, you sorry fools," Jannis said. He spat a glob of blood at Various, but missed. "You still don't see it? There is no Goddess. This is all…that we have."

"All this time," Austin spat, "I thought you believed. I thought you at least had some perverted sense of the greater good. But you're just another despot."

"I did," Jannis said, his voice barely a whisper. "For a long time. I fought this war for her. Because I thought it was her will. I thought that, somehow, all this would make a paradise for her believers. That it would all be for some… greater good.

"It took so long. So many deaths, so much suffering, so many unanswered prayers. But I see now. There is no final judge in this sorry, brutal world of ours." He choked, and grasped his throat. Blood ran down his cheeks. "There is…only us…"

He turned his head to the open roof. His hand fell to his side, and his face went slack.

"It's over," Bluewhale said. The reality of the situation hit them there, and a grave silence filled the room.

"Yes," Nitesco nodded. He looked to Austin, and they saw the tears in each other's eyes. "It's over."

* * *

The rain had stopped, at least.

It was nighttime. Anti and Rowing trudged through the forests, covered in mud and sopping wet. The climb down the well was fine, but it was filled with enough grass, dirt, and live creatures that Anti felt sick even at the thought of drinking from it. At least she got wine, where their poor soldiers were forced to subsist on that swill.

_Had been_ forced, Anti reminded herself. By now, the cathedral was probably sacked and looted, and most of their men were dead. And if Sphinx didn't fulfill his end of the bargain, she and Rowing would be too.

"How much farther?" Rowing asked. His once pristine white robes had been sullied with dirt and drenched with filthy river water. Anti sighed.

"Not too much," Anti said. "I was told to follow the left river up toward the Enablerish border. That's not too— there!"

In the distance, she spotted a small campfire. It was so small and so distant that for a second, she though it was a firefly, but it persisted. That had to be Sphinx.

"Is that them?" Rowing asked. Anti nodded.

"Only a bit farther now," she said. "Come on!"

The hustled the rest of the way, ignoring the insects and the branches that swiped at their open skin. At last, the found the campsite. Hozack, Sphinx, and a few other men were seated around the campfire. Sphinx looked up and flashed Anti a broad smile.

"Anti!" he exclaimed. "You came! I almost thought you wouldn't make it!"

"It was rough," Anti said. "We had to take the secret passage out through the well."

"The well?" Sphinx asked. "Why did you do that? I had a hatch under my dresser."

"Oh," Rowing said. Anti sighed.

"Well, we're here now," she said. "That's what matters."

"And Rowing," Hozack said. "You brought him. Why?"

"I thought he could help me escape," Anti said. "And he did."

"He's a witness," Sphinx said.

"And a potential ally," Anti said. "He's shrewd, and clever. A good administrator." She ignored Rowing's look of fear. "He can be of use to us."

"Anti," Hozack said, a wry smile on his face. "If I didn't already know of your…tastes, I'd say that you had feelings for Rowing."

"Don't start that fight with me," Anti said. "I know what you do with Peters!"

"I like to try from both platters, if you'll excuse the metaphor," Hozack said. He ignored the look of distaste from his grandfather. "But that's not relevant. You did it, Anti. All that remains is to get you and our new friend out of White Rose."

"That won't be difficult," Sphinx said. "Before long, you'll both be safely sequestered away in Checkmate."

"And then what?" Rowing asked. "What do you want us to do for you?"

"Oh, don't fret," Sphinx said. "You'll have plenty to keep you busy. But rest assured, my friends," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"This is only the beginning."


	9. Chapter 9

**May 21, 11 ATC**

**City of Guns N' Roses, Duchy of Gunnia, Kingdom of Guns N' Roses**

When the Church heard of Jannis's fall, many of its members simply gave up. Their Vicars, Crusaders, and other noblemen converts approached the nearest Coalition ally and offered terms of surrender. Others continued the fight, trying desperately to carve out more territory for their men, or at least hold on to the territory they still held, but they were few and far between. Sphinx ensured that word spread quickly enough to cause many of their soldiers to desert before their commanders could come up with a plan. Still others opted to barricade themselves in the nearest fortress and try to sue for peace. They would be dealt with in time.

Now, though, the time had come for the official surrender to be made. The people of Guns N' Roses, the first city to surrender back to the Coalition, watched eagerly as Nitesco walked up to the stage. On his right was Bluewhale, recently returned from a campaign in Bumblebee. On his left was Austin, who had negotiated with the city commander for the safe return of Guns N' Roses. And Nitesco himself approached the stage, dragging a small man with a scarf around his face to the stand with him.

"Gunnians! Rosians! Citizens all!" he boomed. "Today we will hear of perhaps the most momentous occasion in our lifetimes: the surrender of the Church of Thorns!"

The crowd erupted in cheers. Nitesco gently pushed the scarved man forward, and he reluctantly obeyed. The scarved man set his notes on the stand, and Nitesco approached the front again.

"I ask that you all remain silent for this," Nitesco said. "No jeering or cheering until the end. This is important to hear." He backed up and gestured for the man to speak.

The scarved man cleared his throat. "I," he said, in as loud a voice as he could muster, "Viscount Link of the Viscounty of Snowflake Protection, on my authority as a convert to the Church of Thorns and as a member of Jannis's inner council, do hereby call for the immediate cessation of hostilities with, and surrender to the Sans Coalition." He stopped and shook his head. "Sans Coalition," he said, quieter. "What a stupid name."

"Keep reading," Bluewhale growled. Link swallowed and turned back to the papers.

"I," he continued, "on the aforementioned authority, do hereby abolish the position of Sovereign of the Subreddit, currently occupied by the Church of the Thorns, and order all remaining Church officials, officers, and convert natives to turn themselves over. All members that continue to resist Coalition forces are now in schism with the Church, until they follow said orders."

When Link rolled up the paper to put it away, the crowd finally erupted in cries of joy. Peace, at last? It was too good to be true. As the crowds celebrated, Link turned to Nitesco.

"And what will happen to me?" he asked. "Will you put me on the chopping block? Throw me back in prison?"

"No, actually," Austin said. "The King of White Rose has asked for you to be returned to him. I understand that you had a poor relationship with his father, didn't you? He was the one who gave you…" She trailed off and pointed to her cheek. Link pulled the scarf closer to his face.

"No need to remind me," Link said.

"I was just asking," Austin said.

"Regardless, you aren't going to your execution," Nitesco said. "The King has only asked that you go before him and recant. Your lands will be returned, and in exchange, you will allow Yurist missionaries into your holdings."

"I'll never!" Link spat.

"The alternative _is _execution," Bluewhale interjected. Link's eyes widened and he shrank a little bit.

"Then perhaps I'll consider it," Link said. Nitesco waved for the guards to take him away, and they watched as Link was escorted away to the prisons.

"So, Bluewhale," Nitesco said. "How was Bumblebee? I heard you went Church stomping there."

Bluewhale scoffed. "Once Sphinx got the word out that Jannis had gone to meet their Goddess, most of them deserted. Only the zealots stayed around, and there were so few of them that many surrendered upon seeing our forces! No glory in it, I'm afraid." He sighed. "But I did get to see Fort Bombus. You know they still haven't repaired the hole you guys blew in it? Damn good work, if I do say so myself."

"Ah, that," Austin said. She touched her eyepatch. "Quite the debacle."

Nitesco noticed Austin's discomfort. "Are you coming to the party tonight?" he asked Bluewhale.

"Yes, I'm afraid I have to," Bluewhale said. "I dislike parties, but Zealander is to deliver his farewell speech there, so I'm afraid I must. I hear there will be dignitaries from all over tonight."

"The fall of the Church is a momentous occasion," Nitesco said. "It's to be expected, I suppose."

"Well, I'll see you there," Bluewhale said. "Is it at the Badaz Manor?"

Austin nodded. "At eight o'clock tonight."

"Fitting, that," Bluewhale said. "An end to this, where it all began. See you tonight!" He gave a backward wave as he walked away.

"I can't wait to see who shows up tonight," Austin said. "You've told all the dignitaries about the plan?"

"Yes," Nitesco said. "Three years to sort out their affairs, to rebuild, and then we assemble another Diet." He sighed. "Hopefully the last one."

"We can think about that another time," Austin said. "We have three years. A lot can happen between then and now."

"I suppose you're right," Nitesco said. "Will you be at the party tonight?"

"I'm expected to be," Austin said. "And so are you, I might add. No slinking off to do government work."

"I would never!" Nitesco said, feigning insult. They chuckled.

"Oh, god," Austin said. "Do I have to wear a dress?"

"Not if you have a uniform," Nitesco said. "I have a couple spares, if you want."

"That sounds much better," Austin chuckled. "I guess I'll see you then."

"I'll see you then," Nitesco said.

* * *

It was nearly eight o'clock when Austin decided to get ready for the party. Nitesco's military uniform was a size too big for her, but it was leagues better than having to wear a stuffy dress. After a few minutes in the dressing room figuring out which buttons went where and how to get the accursed award pins out, Austin figured she cut a fine figure. She departed for the party, intending to be on time.

When she got there, however, dozens of dignitaries had already arrived. The rooms of the manor had been decked out with refreshment tables and music players in every room, and the main hall was fit with a stage and several tables and chairs. Austin moved through the party, through the crowds of people speaking in different accents and dialects, trying to find anyone she knew.

As she turned into the main hall, she bumped into a large man and almost spilled his drink. Austin quickly checked herself for spills on her uniform before looking up to apologize.

"Excuse me, sir," she said. "I wasn't—" The man turned to her, and she saw it was Coronam. They both smiled.

"Coronam!" Austin said. "So glad to find someone I know here."

"Austin!" he exclaimed. He shook her hand eagerly, almost crushing her fingers. "It's been too long. Have you seen Nitesco yet?"

"No, I just arrived," Austin said. "Is Opifexa here?"

"No, unfortunately," Coronam said. "We agreed it would be unseemly for her to attend, what with her wheelchair and all. Alfonse is here, though."

"Really?"

Coronam nodded. "I don't know where he wandered off to, but he's here somewhere. He's taking so well to matters of the state. Perhaps I'll abdicate when he's of age and turn Renora over to him."

"Perhaps," Austin mused. In the main hall, she spotted Vulpix climbing up the stage to deliver a speech. She pointed.

"Ah, 'Zealander,'" Coronam said. "This is to be his last public speech."

"Is it now?"

Coronam nodded. "Indeed. Let's hear what he has to say."

Austin and Coronam weaseled their way into the main room as Vulpix dinged a fork against his wine glass. As the assembly of the room quieted, he handed the fork to a servant and turned to the crowd.

"I, General Zealander," he said, "have a dream. A dream I know that we can achieve together. Today marks the day of the Church's defeat. Today marks the day we can finally work toward peace."

Light applause from the crowd. Vulpix raised a hand to quiet them.

"We must take time to recover," he said. "Time to rebuild. We must cast aside our petty rivalries, our disagreements, and work for change. In three years' time, we will assemble again and discuss what is to be done with the Subreddit as a whole. I know that sounds daunting for some, or like an opportunity for others. But if we don't work together, we all fall together.

"A wise man once told me that it's never too late to change. It's never too late to make our future brighter. But sometimes we must do that by casting aside the old and welcoming the new. It's why I'm resigning from my post in a few days."

The crowd began murmuring. Zealander, resign? They never thought they'd see the day.

"We need to work towards a new Subreddit, my friends, one free of old rivalries and selfish goals. Out with the old. Bring in the new, and we will all prosper. But of course, don't let that distract you," he said. "From tonight. Have a good time. Talk. Enjoy yourselves. The work may be new, but it can wait until tomorrow." He raised his glass. "To victory!"

"To victory!" the crowd cheered. Vulpix stepped down from the stage and approached Austin.

"Like the speech?" he asked. Austin nodded.

"Well-spoken," she said. "So, it's official, huh?"

"Indeed," Vulpix said. "It was hard to make this decision, but I'm glad I did. I—" he stopped. "Finally. Hozack and Sphinx have arrived."

Hozack, Sphinx and another woman walked in through the front door. Hozack spotted Zealander and gave a wave, beckoning for his grandfather and the woman to follow.

"I'll see you around," Austin said. "I'm going to find Nitesco." Before Vulpix could respond, Austin had disappeared into the crowd.

"Zealander," Sphinx said. "Did I miss the speech?"

"I'm afraid so," Vulpix said. "Don't worry. I'm sure there'll be plenty more things to see and hear tonight." He paused. "Who is this? I don't think I've been introduced."

"Oh," Hozack said. "This is Melanie Antiqua, an emissary from the Ilian League and a good friend of mine."

"Charmed," Vulpix said. Melanie extended a gloved hand and shook his hand, smiling.

"General Zealander," she said. "It's a pleasure."

"You were a veteran of the Third Shipping War, were you not?" Sphinx asked. "We must trade stories."

"Over a glass of wine?" Vulpix said.

"I'm more of a mead man myself," Sphinx said. "Let's go to the bar and chat. Hozack, Melanie. Run along now. Find someone else to talk to."

"Of course, grandfather," Hozack said. As Sphinx and Zealander walked off, Hozack and Melanie began patrolling through the other rooms, keeping an eye out for their targets.

"What are these fools' names again?" Melanie asked.

"Bluewhale and Vaniellis," Hozack said. "I need to chat with Bluewhale alone. Can you lead Vaniellis away?"

"You mean entice him?" Melanie asked.

"I was trying to be more subtle," Hozack whispered. "But yes. You don't have to go any farther than that."

"I won't if I don't have to," Melanie scoffed. "Men are so predictable. So stupid. They think they're so great."

"Well, I don't know about the rest of them," Hozack said, "but I am pretty great."

"You know what I mean," Melanie said. "Are they the ones?"

Hozack followed Melanie's gaze. Two Arkosian officers were chatting at one of the tables. One had his blonde hair cropped short to the scalp while the other had longer, slightly disheveled brown hair.

"Which one?" Melanie asked.

"The blonde one," Hozack said. "That's Vaniellis."

Melanie and Hozack walked over to the table, catching their attention. "I don't believe we've met," Melanie said to Vaniellis. "I'm Melanie."

"Vaniellis," Vaniellis said, a broad, boyish smile on his face.

Before Bluewhale could interject, Hozack put a hand on his shoulder. "Bluewhale," he said. "Might I have a word?"

Bluewhale glanced at Vaniellis. "Get a drink if you like," he said. "I'll have a chat with Hozack." As Vaniellis and Melanie went over to the refreshment table, Hozack took Vaniellis's seat.

"That was a very unsubtle way of getting my attention," Bluewhale said. "You could've just asked."

"I needed to make sure he was away," Hozack said. "That he wouldn't interfere. I have an offer for you."

"What kind of offer?" Bluewhale asked.

"One that benefits both of us," Hozack said. "I know Zealander is stepping down. Which means that there's a leadership change. Which means that things in Arkos will get unstable."

"What interest do you have in our affairs?" Bluewhale asked. His eyes narrowed on Hozack.

"I want allies," Hozack said. "You mustn't tell anyone yet, but Onyzyon has fled the country. His whole family too. I don't know where he's gone, but now that he's off the playing field, my grandfather stands to inherit all of Monochrome. We'll be a great power, and great powers need strong allies."

"An alliance?" Bluewhale asked. "That's what you sent Vaniellis away for?"

"Not just that," Hozack said. He looked around. "Meet me in the cellar at nine o'clock. We can discuss this more candidly there."

Bluewhale eyed him suspiciously. "Very well," he said. "I'll see you at nine, but I make you no promises."

"I would expect nothing more," Hozack said. Bluewhale looked over Hozack's shoulder. Vaniellis was nowhere to be seen.

"Very well," Bluewhale said. As he stood, he almost bumped into a Lancastrian officer.

"Watch it," the woman said. Bluewhale locked eyes with General Generic.

"You watch it," Bluewhale said. "Are you already drunk? You shouldn't be walking so close to the tables."

"And you shouldn't be on my people's land," Generic replied icily. "And yet, there you are."

"You'll get that land back in full," Bluewhale said. "Eventually."

"Eventually," Generic said. "Not yet."

"Please," Hozack said. "It's not even nine o'clock yet. If you two are going to fistfight, do it later, when everyone's too wasted to stop you."

"I won't stoop to barbarism," Generic said. "And besides, I have someone to meet. Good evening, gentlemen."

"Don't knock over anyone on the way there!" Bluewhale said. Generic ignored him.

"The nerve of that scrawny bastard," Generic muttered. She sighed. Even after the coalition's victory, the Arkosians still occupied her land, while her men were forced to quarter in Pollination. The boy Inferno was not happy about that, but they both had little choice.

But there was no reason to dwell on such unpleasant things. There was a party going on, and Generic hoped that her invitation had made it where it needed to go. Otherwise, the whole night would be hopelessly boring.

As she approached the main room, she saw the two she was waiting for: Presbyter MacGregor, and more importantly, Amelia, both wearing identical white cloaks. Underneath those, they wore plain leather vests and cloth tunics, and a small brooch with the emblem of their church.

"Amelia," Generic said, her voice softening. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too," Amelia said. Her tone and her face were unreadable. She was the only person Generic couldn't ever seem to nail down.

"Hello," MacGregor said. He extended his hand in greeting. "Presbyter MacGregor, pleased to— wait. First, let me take off my cloak." He took off his white cloak and threw it on the edge of a nearby chair before reextending his hand. "MacGregor."

"Generic of Lancaster," Generic said. She shook his hand. "A pleasure."

"Mac," Amelia said, "why don't you find Nitesco or Austin and thank them for hosting us? I'd like to talk to Generic."

"Of course," MacGregor said, a knowing glint in his eye. As he left, Amelia beckoned for Generic to sit down at a nearby table.

"It's been too long since we've been able to sit down like this," Amelia said. "Meetings with Jannis and Coronam excluded."

"Perhaps," Generic said. "Those were lively, at least. This is so dull."

"At least they made an effort," Amelia said. "I'm sure they were expected to. But you didn't extend a personal invitation to me just to talk about the party."

"No, I didn't," Generic admitted. "I came here because I want your support."

"My support?" Amelia asked. She narrowed her eyes. "What kind of support? What game are you playing, Genny?"

Generic winced. She hated hearing that name. "I only mean to make Lancaster great again," she said. "The Arkosians trample our lands and our people."

"You'll get your land back," Amelia said. "Nitesco has guaranteed it, hasn't he?"

"I don't want just my land," Generic said. "I want to make sure that Lancaster is never laid low again. For thirty years, we've been the doormat of Junipera. The Third Shipping War. Celtic's Revolt. Now this. We are a proud people, and I plan to ensure we never have to undergo such humiliations again."

"I wouldn't antagonize Arkos," Amelia said. "That's unwise. They have the Coalition's backing."

"Arkos is weak," Generic said. "They've overextended themselves. Their men are depleted, their people are discontent. They won't recover from this war for a long time, no matter how much Bluewhale and Zealander bluster to conceal that fact."

"And what does this have to do with me?" Amelia asked. She did not look pleased.

"I need allies for this," Generic said. "Not troops or anything, just someone to back me up when I make my move."

"Your move?" Amelia said. She looked disappointed. "Genny, you know I can't go in blind like that."

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you yet," Generic said. "But if it works, I'll guarantee Lancaster's future without spilling a drop of blood! All I need is you to work with me."

Amelia looked sad. "Genny, you know I'm not fit for subterfuge."

"It's not subterfuge," Generic said. She put her hand on Amelia's white glove. "It's an opportunity to work together again! Come on, don't you miss that?" Amelia's face twitched into a nostalgic smile for all of a second. Generic continued: "It'll be just like it was all that time ago, remember? You, just a diplomat. Me, just a guard captain. We laid there for hours in bed, talking about how we would change this Subreddit for the better. Don't you want the chance to make those dreams come true?"

"Not like this," Amelia said. She sighed. "I loved you when you had ideals, Genny. I loved you because you weren't like the stuffy, arrogant old men I had to treat with. You had potential to be different. But now?" She sighed and wiped her eyes. "You're just the same as they were."

"You don't mean that," Generic said. "Please, Mel, just listen—"

"Don't call me that," Amelia said. She got up and quickly turned away. "I know I won't be able to talk you out of this. But I want you to know that I do not approve." She turned her steely glare at Generic. "Have a nice night, _Generic_."

Generic winced. Somehow, Amelia had managed to make her own name hurt.

"Having a spat?" a voice said. Generic turned and saw Taco looking down at her through his thin-rimmed glasses. He looked amused. It irritated her.

"Piss off, old man," Generic said. "Unless you want to get me a drink."

"Here," another voice said. Generic looked up to see the Mask standing over her, close enough to see a pair of blue eyes staring back at her. Somehow, that was more unnerving than the mask itself.

He placed a glass of wine on the table in front of her. "You need it more than I do,"

"Fuck you, creep," Generic said. The Mask shrugged and turned to Taco.

"No good deed goes unpunished," the Mask said. He beckoned for Taco to follow. "You were saying?"

"I was saying," Taco said, making sure Generic wasn't listening as they walked out of earshot, "that I would like to negotiate for your services."

"Would you, now?" the Mask said. He pulled Taco aside into a secluded corner of the next room and took a seat on the sofa. "If you wanted my friendship so badly, you should've allied with us when you got the chance."

"It was a mistake not to," Taco said. "One that I thoroughly regret. But soon my neighbors will get uppity, knowing I'm out of the Coalition's good graces. I'd rather that not happen."

"By the sound of it, it already is," the Mask said. Taco sat down on an overstuffed chair.

"That's why I seek your help, to minimize that damage," Taco said. "I know you aren't the only crime syndicate in the Subreddit. You aren't the only group of smugglers, thieves, or 'tax collectors.' But you have the best intelligence network I've ever seen."

"I had a good role model," the Mask said. "An excellent predecessor. Too bad his success went to his head."

"Yes, well," Taco said. "What's important is that I can pay you a lot for your services. I don't need assassins or thugs. Just enough agents to keep an eye on my neighbors."

"Sounds…voyeuristic," the Mask said with a chuckle.

Taco sighed. "Are you in or not?"

The Mask knit his hands and sat up. "How old are you, Taco?"

Taco narrowed his eyes at him. "Pardon?"

"I asked how old you were," the Mask said. Taco could tell he was serious.

"Fifty-two in July," Taco said.

The Mask nodded and pointed to a woman at the bar. "Is that Lewdnep?"

Taco turned and saw, to his chagrin, that Lewdnep was at the bar. She had assembled several empty kegs of beer in an oddly-shaped pyramid and was currently downing another mug. Taco groaned.

"Yes," he said. Taco knew that the Mask knew about Lewdnep. She was his heir, his closest living relative. She already managed his largest estate, the Landgraviate of Sea Monkeys, but reports of her efficiency were checkered at best.

"What is she, your niece?" the Mask asked. Taco turned back to her and watched her try to put another empty mug on top of the pyramid before hiccupping and stumbling to the ground, clearly drunk.

"Cousin," Taco said. "_Distant_ cousin." He turned back to the Mask. "What is your point?"

"My point is," the Mask said, "there is a lot of risk involved. A middle-aged patron most definitely past his prime, a drunkard for an heir, several ambitious neighbors _and_ the reputation of a Church collaborator?" He leaned back, his point made. "I don't want just 'a lot', Taco. I want enough to make robes of solid gold."

Taco scoffed. "Very well," he said. "I have enough. I'll make you rich."

"Oh, I already am," the Mask said. "Let me make that clear. But I want everyone to know."

"Can I ask you to be discreet about this? "Taco asked.

"Aren't I always?" the Mask replied.

Taco shrugged and leaned back in his chair. He shifted to look around the room and saw that King Inferno, as well as another boy, were talking very close to them. Inferno turned and locked eyes with Taco.

"Oh, Taco," Inferno said. He sneered. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Don't go out of your way to be a pest," Taco said. "It's unbecoming of you, boy."

"I'm not—" Inferno began. He sighed. "Oh, forget it."

Taco looked over at the boy dressed in black clothes looking up at him. "And who might you be?"

"Prince Alfonse," the boy said. Taco raised his eyebrows.

"Coronam's boy, eh?" Taco said. "I'm surprised you're talking with him. Your father and his predecessor were always at each other's throats."

"Perhaps some of us outgrew our childishness," Alfonse said. "Unlike you."

The Mask barked with laughter. "He's got you there, Taco!" the Mask said.

"Very funny," Taco sneered. "Go harass your father. I have business to discuss."

"Fine," Inferno said. "Come on, Alfonse. Let's leave him alone."

The two wandered through the crowd of adults, dodging the ones who were drunk enough to begin losing their balance. As they made their way to the back, they resumed their conversation.

"What's it like being king?" Alfonse asked.

"It can be scary at times," Inferno said. "There are lots of visitors that come and ask you to fix their problems. Vassals who come and ask for privileges, or for lower taxes, or to tell me news. And then there are people who hang around all day, like my regent did before the Coalition arrested her, or my advisors and assistants. I know they want me to do things for them, or hold power over me. I do my best to not let them."

"That sounds intimidating," Alfonse said.

"It can be," Inferno said. "But I'll grow into it, I hope. And then I'll make Crosshares the power it was meant to be!"

"You mean like the Inferno before you did?" Alfonse asked. "But she died."

"Yes," Inferno said, slightly offended. "Flamma did die, and so did her brother, but they both did good work before they did. Hopefully, mine will stick."

"Hopefully," Alfonse repeated, not really paying attention. "Did you call her Flamma?"

"Yeah," Inferno said. "We're not all named Inferno, you know. It's just the name we take on becoming monarch. It's tradition."

"I can see that," Alfonse said. "What was your name?"

"Cinis," Inferno said. "But nobody's called me that in years. I prefer Inferno."

"Okay then, Inferno," Alfonse said. He smiled and looked around. "Can you see my dad?"

"Coronam?" Inferno said. "I can't— wait. Is that him, over there in the crowd?"

"Where?" Alfonse asked. Inferno pointed at a large crowd, which had formed around a table in the corner of the room. A few were chanting names, but Alfonse could make none of them out over the din of the cheering. The edged through the crowd, and Alfonse saw, to his embarrassment, that his father was arm-wrestling Various. Several mugs of beer were littered around the table. Coronam and Various were both red-faced, but after a few more moments, Coronam pinned Various's arm to the table. Various sputtered and attempted to stand.

"N-not fair! Cheat…" Various trailed off. He finally forced himself off the table, only to collapse next to it, to the roaring of the crowd.

"I don't understand it," Coronam said. "He drank, like, four meads tops. How—" He turned and saw, to his embarrassment, his son watching him.

"Alfonse!" he asked. "Why are you here?"

"I was looking for you," Alfonse said. "But it seems you're busy."

"I'm just doing diplomacy," Coronam said, oddly nonchalant.

"Diplomacy?" Alfonse asked, skeptical.

"Yup," Coronam said. "Gotta show everyone Renoran strength! It keeps our reputation afloat." He paused. "Is that Inferno?"

"H-hello," Inferno stammered. Coronam narrowed his eyes.

"Coronam!" Kazehh emerged from behind the bar, somewhat drunk. "I challenge you!"

"Oh, this'll be easy!" Coronam said. Alfonse sighed and wandered off as Coronam grabbed Kazehh's hand.

"Coronam!" a voice called. Coronam and Kazehh looked over to see Austin staring at them with disapproval. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Arm-wrestling," Coronam said. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Stay out of this, Austin," Kazehh said. "I'm going to reclaim Various's honor!"

"Oh, whatever," Austin said. "Can someone at least tell me where Nitesco is?"

"Upstairs," Coronam said. "He went up with Horsea to discuss something a while ago."

"Thank you," Austin said. She ignored Kazehh's grunts as the match began and he tried in vain to overpower Coronam.

Austin made her way over to the stairway that led to the upper floor of the mansion. She looked over the railing and saw Bluewhale descending into the cellar.

"Bluewhale?" she asked. "Why are you going down there?

"Hm?" Bluewhale snapped to attention. "Oh…just getting another bottle of wine."

"You know you could just ask the servants to do that."

Bluewhale shrugged. "I wanted to see what was here."

"Fine by me," Austin said. She gave him a nod and they went their separate ways.

Bluewhale descended into the cellar, wine glass in hand. It wasn't nine o'clock yet, but it was close enough. He threw open the cellar door and looked around.

There was nobody there except for two servants. One of them looked up from a wine shelf and saw Bluewhale.

"Oh, the Arkosian," he said. "Katie, the Arkosian's here!"

A female servant poked her head up from behind a barrel of beer. "Ah, mister, um, Bluefield?"

"Bluewhale," Bluewhale corrected her.

"Right. Two men came down here a few minutes ago. Told us to look out for an Arkosian. They're in the spirits room."

"The spirits room?" Bluewhale asked.

"At the very end of the hall," the man said. "Where we keep all the distilled stuff. Don't go drinking it!"

"Spirits aren't my thing," Bluewhale said. He walked down the hall and saw that a man he did not recognize was leaning on the door. The man wore a neatly-shaved beard and a black coat over his vestments. As Bluewhale approached, the man straightened up.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Admiral Bluewhale," Bluewhale said. "And you are?"

"Call me Peters," the man said. He opened the door and beckoned for Bluewhale to enter. Bluewhale obeyed.

Hozack stood in the corner of the room, which was only illuminated by torchlight. Peters shut the door behind them.

"Thank you, Peters," Hozack said. "Now, I believe I offered my assistance."

"What kind of assistance are we talking about?" Bluewhale asked.

"My agents, my infiltrators, spies, assassins, should you need them," Hozack said. "All at your disposal, if you help me."

"I still don't understand why you're helping me," Bluewhale said. "Why me? Why Arkos?"

"Because Arkos is uniquely positioned in Junipera," Hozack said. "Because, like I said before, my grandfather is about to come into command of all Monochrome. I intend to lift Monochrome up to greatness, to become the dominant power in Rubia. But I cannot do that without allies."

"You want Arkos on your side," Bluewhale said. Hozack laughed.

"No," he said. "I want you on my side." Bluewhale appeared surprised, so Hozack continued: "You have the potential to be the next Vulpix," Hozack said. "He united Arkos during its time of troubles. So can you. I know that Zealander is leaving Arkos in the hands of the Oligarchs."

"A mistake," Bluewhale said. "Vaniellis is the only one of them with any vision. The rest are too indolent or selfish to lead properly."

"Which is why I come to you," Hozack said. "And offer my assistance. If I can lift up Arkos in Junipera, and Monochrome in Rubia, we will be an unstoppable alliance. With your military and my networking, there will be nobody to stand against us."

"And what about Nitesco?" Bluewhale asked. "Of the Coalition?"

"The Coalition exists only out of convenience," Hozack said. "As soon as it suits him, Nitesco will disband it."

"Nitesco wouldn't do that," Bluewhale said. "He's an honorable man. A good man."

"Good men don't make great men," Hozack said. "And in this time of strife, we need great men. You can be one, Bluewhale. You're already a hero in your people's eyes." He got closer, enough to whisper in Bluewhale's ear. "Wouldn't you like to be a legend?"

Bluewhale nodded. What Hozack said made sense. "Alright," he said. "I'll consider it. But if I do decide to pursue this ambition, I'll need allies in Arkos."

"I'm afraid I can't help you there," Hozack said. "Do you have any ideas?"

Bluewhale scratched his chin, thinking. "Yeah," he said. "I may know of one."

"Very good," Hozack said. "I leave that to you. I think this will be a very profitable partnership."

"So do I," Bluewhale said, somewhat uneasy. Glory and progress. He had to take the opportunity.

"Farewell," Hozack said. Bluewhale waved goodbye, and followed Peters out the door. He looked back and managed to get a last look at Hozack's smiling face before Peters shut the door.

* * *

Austin wandered around the second floor of the manor. Unlike the first floor, barely anyone was up there, save for a few servants or lost partygoers. Austin approached Nitesco's office and pushed the door open.

"—all I'm saying is, we cannot take any overt actions at this time. A public alliance so soon would be unsightly."

Nitesco was talking to Horsea, who stood facing away from her. "I'm not asking for a military alliance," Horsea said. "But we both know now more than ever, we need allies. A trade alliance, nothing more, to rejuvenate our economies."

"The Coalition is not enough?" Nitesco asked. Horsea sighed.

"You know what I'm asking for," Horsea said, impatient.

"And you know my answer," Nitesco said. "I intend to keep the promises I made to you and the other Coalition members. That should be enough for you."

Horsea turned to leave. "Very well," he said. "I'll see— Austin." He stopped, and both of them looked at her. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Am I interrupting?" Austin asked.

"Horsea was just leaving," Nitesco said. Horsea frowned.

"I was just asking Nitesco if he wanted a trade alliance," Horsea said.

"And I gave you my answer," Nitesco said. "Please close the door on your way out."

Horsea sighed but obeyed, and he shut the door as he left. Once he was gone, Nitesco sighed.

"Can they not wait a few months to start politicking?" Nitesco wondered aloud. He walked over to the front of the room and opened the doors to the balcony. "I need some fresh air."

"I thought you said there'd be no government work tonight," Austin said, faking a pout. Nitesco shrugged.

"He asked for an audience," Nitesco said. "Didn't think he would go on for so long. How are things downstairs?"

"Certainly not boring," Austin said. "Coronam is winning an arm-wrestling competition."

"Of course he is," Nitesco said. He paused. They looked out at the city, illuminated by stars and moonlight. "So, what do you think you'll do now that this is all over?"

"Don't know," Austin said. "I suppose I'll…go back to Armed and Ready and find work."

Nitesco raised his eyebrows. "You don't mean mercenary work?"

"No, not that," she said. "But I'm sure the countess will find a good position for me. Marshal, or diplomat, or something."

Nitesco nodded. "It'll be a pity to see you go. After all we've done together…"

"Yeah," Austin agreed. They looked out at the city, more somber now.

After a few moments, Nitesco spoke up again. "You know," he said. "I had an idea."

"Did you?" Austin asked. She heard a hint of mischief in his voice.

"Well, you were a founding member of the Coalition, right?" Nitesco asked. "It wouldn't be right for you to not have something to do with it."

"What are you suggesting?" Austin asked.

"Perhaps," Nitesco said, looking away sheepishly, "you could be an envoy?"

"An envoy?"

"Yeah," Nitesco said. "Special envoy, between Coalition members and everyone else. You'd get to speak, travel—"

"Spend time with you?" Austin asked. Nitesco chuckled bashfully.

"Why not?" Nitesco said. "I mean, unless you don't want to,"

"No," Austin said, trying not to sound eager. "I'd love that."

"You would, huh?" Nitesco asked. His nervousness from earlier seemed to be disappearing, and he slowly got closer to her. Austin didn't mind.

"Yeah," Austin said, leaning in. "I would."

And then Nitesco kissed her. It was sudden, and it ended just as suddenly, but it told Austin everything she needed to know.

"Nitesco," she said. She chuckled. "Didn't think you had it in you."

"Well that's just mean," Nitesco said, but he smiled. "You know, we should probably get back to the party."

"They won't miss us," Austin said. "Come on. You're a lot more interesting."

"Am I, now?" Nitesco said. Austin smiled at him and walked back inside. Nitesco chuckled to himself, closed the balcony doors and followed her.


	10. Chapter 10

**December 13, 11 ATC**

**Port Anderssen, Viceroyalty of Checkmate, Principality of Monochrome**

Hozack walked through the sleet-covered streets of Port Anderssen, ignoring the falling snow. The year had been quiet since the Church fell. Few issues of diplomatic importance, but there was always the issue of giving aid to nations in need and the necessity of coordinating with the other Coalition members. It had kept him away from home for months. But the winter holidays gave him an excuse to return to Checkmate, and spending time with his grandfather was always pleasant during the winter.

As he approached the gate of the manor, the guards saw him. A pair of them, one old and one young, went out to meet him.

"What is your business here?" the younger one asked. He must have been new. The old one pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Idiot," the older one said. "Can't you tell? This is the young master!"

"The young master?" the younger one asked. He bit his lip. "Apologies, my lord! I didn't—"

"Don't harass the man," the older one said. "We'll have this discussion later."

"It's quite alright," Hozack said. "Are you new here, my boy?"

"Yes," the young man said. "My lord. I've been here only a few months."

"I've been gone for much of that time," Hozack said. "I'm not surprised he didn't recognize me. Spare the boy; he's just doing his job."

"Hmph," the older guard muttered. "If you insist. You boys! Open the gate for the young master!"

The men in the gatehouse rushed down and opened the gate. The rusted hinges creaked loudly as the gate opened before him. Hozack gave a final wave to the two guardsmen before he hurried down the road to the manor.

The wind was beginning to pick up now, he noticed, blowing snow and wet sleet at his back. He saw a few servants, sent outside to clear the paths of snow, abandon their posts and head inside instead of trying in vain to finish their job. He would pretend he didn't see it, Hozack thought.

He arrived at the door of the manor and brought down the brass knockers on the door. Footsteps behind the door, and it opened. The butler was standing there, his beard longer and his gray hair thinner than it had been when Hozack left. He smiled.

"Master Hozack," he said. "Come in, come in. It's much too cold to be out there."

"Thank you, Aloysius," Hozack said. The butler closed the door and took Hozack's snow-covered coat. "I sent the servants in. It's much too cold to have them out there, and it's not like they're making any headway."

"Yes, I was just about to call them in," Aloysius said. "It's been a bitter winter this year."

"I'm sure my grandfather will gripe about it," Hozack said. "Speaking of, where is he? He knew I was coming, did he not?"

Aloysius shifted uneasily. "He's in bed, sir."

"In bed?" Hozack asked. "But it's only, what, six o'clock? He's usually in his office until at least nine." He studied Aloysius's unease. He did not like at all how the butler refused to make eye contact.

"Aloysius," Hozack said. "What is wrong?"

"Your, ah, grandfather," Aloysius stammered. "He's, er, taken ill. Very ill, I'm afraid."

"Ill?" Hozack said. "We have the finest doctors in the nation on call! It can't be that serious." He paused. "Can it?"

Aloysius pulled Hozack closer and his voice dropped to a whisper. "I've kept details from the other staff," Aloysius said, "on Lord Sphinx's express wishes. All I know is that his sickness is severe and that—" He stopped. "And that there may be no cure."

"Is that all?" Hozack asked.

"He said he would tell you the rest himself," Aloysius said. "He's in his bedroom, waiting for his dinner."

"Thank you, Aloysius," Hozack said. "I'll take his dinner up. You have the rest of the night off."

Hozack fetched the dinner plate from the kitchen, which was adorned with fine meats, cheeses and vegetables. He grabbed a small mug of mead, his grandfather's favorite, and went upstairs to his grandfather's bedroom.

Sphinx was lying face-up under his covers, and Hozack was astonished by how much he had changed. It had only been a few months since he had left, but Sphinx had become frail. His skin was splotchy and pale, and his face seemed to be pulled tighter across his face. As Sphinx saw Hozack enter, his face brightened.

"Hozack, you're back," he said, and Hozack noticed his voice was very dry. "And you brought me dinner. Aloysius will be out of a job."

Hozack set the platter on Sphinx's lap and pulled up a chair. "You didn't tell me you were sick in your letters," Hozack said.

Sphinx shrugged. "That's not information I wanted intercepted, or accidentally decoded. But you know now."

"What is it?" Hozack said. "What disease is this?"

"The doctors say," Sphinx said, "that it isn't cancer, at least. No tumors. But they say that my entire body is weakening. My bones, my muscles, are deteriorating. It won't kill me immediately. But it will leave me vulnerable to something that will."

"How long do you have?" Hozack asked.

Sphinx looked down at his food. He didn't look very hungry. "A few years," he said. "I'll live to see seventy, that's for sure. I'll probably live to see the next Diet. But I don't think I'll make it to seventy-five."

"Don't say that," Hozack said. "The doctors can treat this! I can have our agents retrieve—"

"No," Sphinx said. Hozack went silent. His grandfather sighed. "No, don't waste our resources on me. The Diet is approaching, and there is work to be done in the meantime. The time for my leadership is almost over. It is time for you to take the mantle of command. Finish our good work."

"I will, grandfather," Hozack said.

"The road ahead is treacherous," Sphinx said. "There are enemies on every side: Nitesco, Bluewhale, Generic. They will disrupt our plans if we let them. We cannot allow that. Can you handle this?"

"The plan is already in motion," Hozack said. "Peters and I have seen to that. Melanie is on her way to Arkos."

"You must not forget Nitesco and Generic," Sphinx said. "Arkos, Lancaster, Guns N' Roses. Lay them low, and you guarantee prosperity and peace for all the Order."

"I will," Hozack said. "For the common good."

Sphinx nodded and coughed a wheezing, dry cough. "Yes, grandson," he said. "For the common good."

* * *

**February 1, 12 ATC**

**Thetis Prison, Province of Lesser Arkos, Oligarchy of Arkos**

Strike sat on his cot, running his overlong fingernails along the wall in an effort to keep them short. A year in Thetis Prison had run him ragged. His entire life was ten feet by ten feet: his cot, his chamber pot, and a window with a view that led nowhere. Twice a day he and the other prisoners were allowed out in the yard for an hour, but he knew the other prisoners didn't care for his reputation, so he kept to himself. Strike didn't like it, but it seemed better than the gallows to him.

His stomach growled. The guards wouldn't be coming around to deliver lunch for another two hours. Strike went to the bars of his cell and looked both ways down the block. The guards were busy harassing some other prisoner.

Strike went over to the wall and dislodged a loose brick, revealing a small alcove. A few strips of jerky, a biscuit, a brown half-eaten apple. It wasn't much, and it wasn't appetizing, but it was better than nothing. Strike grabbed the apple and pried off a chunk before putting the food back where it belonged.

As he ate quietly, his back to the cell door, he heard the guards walking down the corridor in his direction. Strike swallowed what he had in his mouth and hid what he hadn't eaten in the waistband of his uniform as the guards stopped in front of his cell.

"This is the one?" One of them, a gruff-sounding woman, spoke. "Seriously? He couldn't lift a sword if his life depended on it."

"Not our place to question orders." An equally terse man spoke. He rattled the door of the cell. "Oi! You! Stand up, put your hands on the wall! We're coming in!"

Strike grumbled. "Are you coming to beat me? What did I even do?" He hoped he sounded defiant. He knew he probably just sounded weary.

"Hands up on the wall!" the woman barked. Strike sighed and did as he was told, hoping the apple bits didn't fall out of his pants, or they would give him a beating for sure.

The cell door unlocked behind him. The two guards entered. Strike felt shackles enclose around his hands.

"What are you doing?" Strike asked. "Where am I going?"

"Not to your execution," the man said. He sounded disappointed. Strike tried not to notice.

"Then where?" Strike asked. He turned. The woman looked to the man, who shrugged.

"Hell if I know why," the woman said, "but some bigwig has come here especially for you, _Colonel._"

"Which, er, bigwig?" Strike asked.

"Admiral Bluewhale," the man said. "So I'd sit up straight and make eye contact if I were you. Now, hands in front. We're going."

Strike sighed and followed the guards out of the cell, one in front, one behind him. Admiral Bluewhale, come to visit? It seemed like a good sign. Or perhaps a very bad one.

Strike kept quiet as they walked through the drab hallways in silence. The other prisoners, still in their cells, looked at him with apprehension or curiosity as he walked by, but he ignored them. Eventually, they entered the administration wing, leading Strike through the well-adorned hallways until they reached the warden's office.

Bluewhale sat in the warden's chair, fiddling impatiently with a pencil. He looked up and saw Strike, disheveled and ragged, walk into the office, and he sighed.

"You look worse for wear," he said. Strike said nothing. Bluewhale pursed his lips.

"Nothing to say? No clever comments? No pointed speeches?" Strike remained impassive. Bluewhale frowned.

"Guards, leave," he said. The guards gave Bluewhale sloppy salutes and left. As they closed the door behind them, Bluewhale beckoned for Strike to sit.

"Apologies for the poor accommodation," Bluewhale said. "I tried to get you transferred to a prison in Jaunerrha, but the others were having none of it."

"The others?" Strike asked.

"The other Oligarchs," Bluewhale said. "Didn't you hear? Zealander has stepped down."

Strike's eyes widened. Vulpix, step down? He never thought he'd see the day.

"What does that have to do with me?" Strike asked. An almost imperceptible smile appeared on Bluewhale's face.

"It has everything to do with you," he said. "Governance has been left to me, and the others, of course. But they are fools. All except Vaniellis, I suppose, but he doesn't have the stomach for intrigue."

"Vaniellis?" Strike asked. When he'd left, Vaniellis was just an upstart Major, the commanding officer of Fort Jaunerrha. How could he have risen so far?

"Yes," Bluewhale said. "He's been elected to fill the vacancy you left, as representative of Jaunerrha province. I think you'll quite like him."

"You still haven't answered my question," Strike said. "What does this have to do with me?"

Bluewhale forced a smile. "Ever enthusiastic, I see," he said condescendingly. "But you are still the same soldier I knew three years ago. Proud. Skilled. Willing to do anything for Arkos. Not like these other fools."

Bluewhale stood and turned. Behind him was a portrait of the five Oligarchs. On one side, he and Vaniellis sat, hands folded in their laps. A table stood between them and the others: Reno was sitting, his receding black hair terminating in a widow's peak as sharp as the rest of his chin. Wingnut stood behind him, wearing a long gray beard. Behind the table in the middle, Ijustread stood with his hands on his hips, his muttonchops extending over the collar of his vestments. Bluewhale turned back to Strike, and he grimaced.

"Ijustread was a yes-man for Zealander, and now he's a yes-man for Reno. Reno wants us to surrender our influence to work with the other nations of the world, always harping on about diplomacy or some such. And Wingnut cowers in his highlands, lecturing us on infrastructure, or stability. Shameful." He slammed his hand down on the desk, rattling the things on it. "Arkos is the most stable it's been in fifty years! We must turn our vision outward."

"Really?" Strike asked. "Stable? Even with all the infighting you just described?"

Bluewhale knit his fingers. "Well, I exaggerate. But I will make sure that my statement becomes reality."

"So tell me," Strike said. "What does this have to do with me?"

Bluewhale sighed and dusted himself off. "I intend to rid Arkos of those who would hold it back," he said. "Men of vision, men of tradition, must be the ones to rule. Vaniellis can be useful, but I know of nobody else who is as devoted to Arkos as he or I am." He turned a sly eye toward Strike. "Except you."

"Me?" Strike asked. He felt his heart rate pick up. "But I'm—"

"A criminal?" Bluewhale asked. He sounded too mischievous for comfort. "A traitor? Maybe. If it were up to the others, they'd have just let you rot here for the rest of your life, but thanks to me, you'll get the chance at a fair trial!"

"A trial!" Strike yelled. "Are you mad? They'll have me hanged?"

"A little gratitude would be nice," Bluewhale said, still wearing a self-assured grin. "Do you know how long I had to jostle them to get them to agree with it? But rest assured, you won't be going to the gallows."

"And how will you manage that?" Strike asked.

"With my help." A voice spoke from behind him. Strike jumped in surprise and turned to see a woman waiting in the corner of the room. She smiled reassuringly and Strike breathed a sigh of relief.

"He's jumpy," the woman said. She furrowed her brow. "What's that in your waistband?"

Strike looked down at his waist. The apple! He had completely forgotten about it. It was a miracle it hadn't fallen out on the way.

"An apple," Strike said. He pulled it out and placed it on the desk. "I…stole it."

"Strike steals?" the woman asked. She smiled playfully. "Has he no dignity?"

"He does what he must to survive. An admirable trait," Bluewhale said, but Strike sensed the disapproval in his eyes.

"Who is this woman, anyway?" Strike asked.

"Melanie," she cooed. "And I'm going to help you. Should you accept the good admiral's offer, of course."

"There is much evidence against you," Bluewhale said. "Documents, letters, and the like. But Melanie can, ah, replace those with letters that suggest you were a spy for our side the whole time. After all, why should Austin be the only one to become a double agent?"

"You would falsify evidence?" Strike asked. "Just to get me off the hook?"

"I have great ambition," Bluewhale said. The smugness in his voice was gone. "I will secure the homeland. I will make Arkos the power it was meant to be! But I can't do that without men who I know share my vision. You can join me, Strike. Be the hero you were always meant to be. If nothing else, you would get the promotion to General that Zealander always denied you.

"Of course," Bluewhale continued. "You don't have to accept. If you want a fair trial, you can get one. Enjoy the gallows at the end. Or perhaps you'd like me to call off the trial entirely if you like this place that much. But why would you spend your time scrounging for scraps—" He gestured to the apple chunk on the desk. "When you could be so much more?"

"Can she pull it off?" he whispered. "Melanie. Can she—"

"I can hear you," she said. "And yes, I'm perfectly capable of replacing a few documents."

"You see?" Bluewhale said. "We're on the path to victory."

"But what about the other Oligarchs?" Strike asked. "Reno, Ijustread, Wingnut. How will you deal with them?"

"Let me worry about that," Bluewhale said, his face grave. "You just worry about your exoneration speech. It'll be a few months, but soon you'll feel the open air of Arkos again, from outside the prison fences. That is," he said, "if you accept."

Strike nodded. "Okay," he said. "Okay. I'll work with you if you can get me out of here."

"Very good," Bluewhale said. "Guards! Take this man back to his cell!"

The guards entered after a few moments. Strike presented his hands to be shackled.

"No," Bluewhale said. "From now on, he gets the best treatment available. No more rotted rations. No more work details. Decent food. Time alone in the yard. And for god's sake, get him some proper clothes. Understood?"

The guards looked to one another. They didn't care enough to ask why.

"Of course, sir," the woman said. As they led him out of the office, Strike managed a backwards glance at Bluewhale. He was studying the apple Strike left on the desk, his face contorted in distaste.

That apple had been ambrosia to him just a few minutes ago, Strike thought. He would've been beaten for having that, but he risked it anyway. But now, with the offer of so much more on the table, the sweet taste of apple in his mouth had become distinctly tart.

* * *

**May 25, 12 ATC**

**Rufus House, County of Armed and Ready**

The falcon flew in great, broad circles over the house, and Austin could not help but be impressed. The way it moved so gracefully, the way it soared, it made her want to have wings herself. Of course, the bird would be much more impressive if it responded to her commands.

"Come on, come on," she muttered. The bird had been disagreeable since Contramundi first allowed her to take it. But it was reliable, and always returned to her. Eventually.

The bird dove down, but instead of heading for her gauntlet, it swooped down and carried off a squirrel. Austin sighed.

"Fine, be that way," she said. Austin unstrapped the gauntlet and walked over to sit on her front porch. As she sat down, she noticed that someone was coming up the path to her house. She stood, and as the man got closer, recognized the familiar head of unruly black hair she saw poking above the foliage.

As Nitesco rounded the corner and entered her line of sight, she stood from her porch and raised her arms. "What's the matter, prime minister?" she yelled. "No carriage? No horses?"

"You wound me so!" he shot back, but he smiled. His voice dropped to a whisper as he got close. "Is there anyone around here?"

"Not other than, well, you know," she said. She leaned in and kissed him. "I'm sure he's dying to see you."

"Is he now?" Nitesco said. He gave a fake gasp. "Has he been talking about me?"

"It's all nonsense," Austin said. They chuckled. "First room on the right as you head in. I bet he'll be ecstatic to see you. Or he'll already be asleep."

Nitesco grinned and went over to open the front door. Austin smiled and followed him inside, watching with amusement as he carefully opened the door and crept into the room. She leaned on the doorframe as Nitesco moved over to the crib and, for the first time, picked up his son.

The baby stirred ever so slightly, but did not wake up. Nitesco rocked him back and forth, smiling all the while.

"He's quiet," Nitesco said. "Is he always so quiet?"

"Oh, boy," Austin said. "Not all the time." They laughed, but soon sank back into silence.

"I'm sorry I can't be around much," Nitesco said. He gently placed the boy back in the crib. "Duties of state and whatnot. And the uproar if anyone learned about this!"

"I understand," Austin said. "I understand. The Countess was willing to provide me this estate and some loyal couriers, but if it ever gets out that this child is not some adopted orphan, then our work is… well, it'll be harder to finish."

"Speaking of work," Nitesco said. "How has it been coming along?"

Austin groaned. "Time consuming, but I'd still rather be writing and receiving letters than having to talk to all these people in person, especially with the baby."

Nitesco nodded. "Any asking for aid?"

"Some," Austin said. "Most I have to reject, because we don't have room in the budget or it would rub the other Coalition members the wrong way. We can spare some money for a rebuilt village here or some extra soldiers there, but some cases simply need more than we can give. I always feel guilty responding to the sad ones."

"Well, the rebuilding seems to be going quickly overall," Nitesco said. "Most nations have reached some sort of coexistence with the Church converts in their regions. The Church has splintered into regional churches, so they're no threat anymore. And a lot of infrastructure has been replaced, too. In fact, several nations have approved moving the summit up a year."

"So soon?" Austin asked. "I mean, that's good news, but we're far from finished. Who approved this?"

"The Oligarchs of Arkos, Lancaster, Sphinx. They managed to win over Coronam by allowing the summit to happen in Renora, where he can control the situation. All well and good on paper but—" He sighed. "I can't help but feel like something is going to happen there. Somebody's moving behind the scenes, and I don't know who."

"Are you certain?" Austin asked.

Nitesco nodded. "Positive. The Mask has been hired by Taco down in Heroa, and he's putting his logistical networks to good use. There are weird goings-on: strange meetings, money flowing to and from places it shouldn't. And the agents he sends to investigate have an alarming mortality rate."

"Hired by Taco?" Austin wondered aloud. "Why'd he ever agree to that?"

"Well, he insists he's been 'contracted', not 'hired'. But Taco is surrounded by potential enemies now that he's out of our graces. I guess he wanted the Mask to even the odds."

"I think we both know Taco has enough money and allies to dissuade anyone from attacking him," Austin said. "But why would he enlist the Mask? He's using the Mask's information networks. Is he really that afraid?"

"Like I said," Nitesco said, "things have to be moving somewhere. But that's a fact of life." He turned back to his son, placing a hand on the edge of the crib. "I wish it didn't have to be that way."

Austin forced a smile and put her hand on Nitesco's shoulder. "It doesn't have to be, for a little bit," she said. "It's only about noon. You don't have to head back so soon, do you?"

Nitesco's dour expression brightened. "I suppose. What did you have in mind?"

"I hadn't made up my mind yet," Austin said. She closed her arms around Nitesco. "We could have a nice, peaceful lunch. Or we could just go—" She stopped as the falcon landed on the windowsill and screeched. The baby awoke and began crying. Austin groaned.

"Hush now," she said. She picked up the boy and rocked him, whispering and cooing. After a few moments, the baby stopped crying and returned to sleep.

"Well done," Nitesco said.

"I've had three months to practice," Austin said, gently putting her son back in the crib. "He's quiet most of the time, though. No thanks to you," she said, and she stared daggers at the falcon.

"That bird's been with you since it came to us in Lancaster," Nitesco said. "Tell me you didn't take as long to name it as you did the boy."

"No, I decided on it right after the Church's surrender," she said. "Quail." The bird chirped back at her.

Nitesco turned and looked at the falcon. He laughed. "Quail! Now there's a good name. Quite fitting if I do say so myself."

"Just as nippy as his namesake," Austin said. "You want to see if you can do better with him?"

Nitesco smiled. "Challenge accepted. But the baby—"

"I leave the window open so I can hear if he cries," Austin said. "And I never go farther than the front yard."

"You've thought of everything, haven't you?" Nitesco asked.

"I pride myself on it," Austin said. "Do you know how to falcon?"

"Only the basics," he said. "If that. Are you a good teacher?"

"I certainly hope so," Austin said. "But I guess we'll see."

They laughed, and Austin went out to the front porch to retrieve her falconing gauntlet. Nitesco watched her and smiled. A good woman, a good ally, a good partner, he thought. If only some of his political opponents thought the same way.

He turned to the baby in the crib for a second. His son. Still such a strange concept to him. But as he watched the little boy sleep, he felt no regrets.

"Nitesco," Austin said. "Coming?"

"Of course." Nitesco glanced at his boy, still snoring quietly in his crib, once more before he stepped out to join Austin.


	11. Chapter 11

**June 7, 12 ATC**

**City of Immolata, Province of Lesser Arkos, Oligarchy of Arkos**

Governor Wingnut poked his head out of his office, looking into the courtroom. It was filled to the brim. Each seat was filled with officials, burghers, soldiers, all coming to see the most momentous occasion in all of Arkosian history: the trial of an Oligarch. Or rather, an ex-oligarch.

Strike sat in the middle of the courtroom, his face pale. In one way he looked fearful, but in another, oddly anticipatory. Strike glanced around the courtroom, his gaze flickering around the unfamiliar faces before stopping on Bluewhale and Vaniellis. The Admiral and Vaniellis were seated in a special booth, next to the jury, with Reno and Ijustread. Bluewhale had a contented smile on his face, and he glanced over to Wingnut. After making eye contact, he stood and made his way over to Wingnut.

"Wingnut," he said, his voice oozing with friendliness. "You look a tad pale. Is judging this going to be too much of a task for you?"

Wingnut frowned. "Don't patronize me, boy." Bluewhale's smile dimmed at Wingnut's remark. "If it weren't for you, this wouldn't be happening. He could be rotting in Thetis prison, away from all this hubbub. But you just had to have a show, didn't you?"

"This is a chance to legitimize our government by cutting ties with past failures," Bluewhale said.

"Or a horrible mistake," Wingnut said. "Given that the evidence is against him, it'll likely just dredge up our past failings."

"We'll just have to wait and see," Bluewhale said. "Anyways, you've got about, hmm, fifteen minutes before the trial starts? Go wash up, put on the fancy judge's hat. I can't wait to see how this goes."

Wingnut swallowed. Fifteen minutes? That wasn't long enough to prepare. He was the one selected to officiate the trial; it was his legacy that would be attached to this. Wingnut wished he had stayed home and pretended to be ill.

Wingnut groaned and retreated into his office. The evidence was all here: the letters Strike sent to Church commanders, League dossiers, even a few eyewitness accounts from some captured Church soldiers. The case was stacked against him. Why even have a trial?

"Sir?" An Arkosian guardswoman, her face obscured by a helmet, and a servant girl walked out of the adjacent room. The guardswoman cocked her head. "Are you alright? You look quite pale."

"Oh, don't worry about me," Wingnut said. "It's just, er, stressful. I have no idea what the fallout from this trial will be, but it will certainly be attached to my name forevermore." He groaned and sat down at the table with the papers strewn across it. "Such great pomp, and with this, it will be over within an hour." Wingnut began shuffling the papers into a neat pile.

"Would you like some wine?" The servant girl asked.

Wingnut managed to smile. "That'll certainly help," he said. "I'll take a glass. Would you like one, ma'am?"

"I'd love some," the guardswoman said. "Melanie, bring us two glasses of the finest vintage you can find."

"Of course," Melanie said. Wingnut noted her accent. Quite odd. Heroan, maybe? Definitely from the far south. Maybe she was a refugee. It didn't matter much. He returned his attention to the guardswoman.

"What's all this?" the guardswoman asked. She picked up the top paper from the pile and scanned it before Wingnut plucked it from her hand.

"You're not supposed to see that," he said. Wingnut pushed the pile to the edge of the table. "Not until the trial. You two can listen from behind the door if you want. I don't really care."

"I have an inkling of how it will end," the guardswoman said, a mischievous tone in her voice. Wingnut ignored it, and the servant girl returned to them with two wine glasses in hand.

"You're new to this, aren't you?" Wingnut asked. "You didn't even bring it in on a platter. Just two glasses." Melanie set a wine glass in front of him and handed the other one to the guardswoman.

"You could say that," Melanie said. Wingnut shrugged and took a gulp of his wine.

"It matters little, I suppose," he said. "So long as it'll take the edge off, I don't care how you deliver it." He took another sip and noticed that the guardswoman hadn't drank any of her wine. Instead, she was just sitting there, watching Wingnut expectantly.

"Not going to drink with me?" he asked.

The guardswoman snickered a bit, as if she had just thought of something very clever. "I'm not really sure that you want to see what's underneath my helmet."

"It can't be that bad," he said. He took another sip and cleared his throat. It was a little more difficult to swallow it now, he noticed. "Come on, what's the harm?"

"If you insist," the guardswoman said. She lifted her helmet and revealed the face of a young woman: dark hair, bright brown eyes. Wingnut was perplexed.

"You look oddly familiar," he said.

"Perhaps you saw me at the Diet?" the woman suggested. "I was with the Ladybug delegation."

Wingnut cleared his throat. "The Ladybug delegation?" he asked hoarsely. "But the only woman with them was—" He gasped in realization. "Anti Logic!"

He tried to stand and rush for the door, but his legs gave out from under him. He suddenly felt so frail. His limbs felt like they had iron weights on them. They would not respond to his commands. The wine! Of course! He had been so foolish!

Wingnut opened his mouth to cry out, but his voice was hoarse. He could barely whisper. Melanie stood over him with a disappointed look on her face.

"That was quite disappointing," Melanie remarked. "I expected more awareness from an Arkosian Oligarch. You're far too trusting."

Wingnut felt his body sink to the floor, and his breathing slow. "Begone...traitor," he whispered. Melanie frowned.

"Traitor?" she asked. "That's a bit of a misnomer. I can't be a traitor if I never worked for you, can I?" Wingnut struggled to respond, but the poison had made its way to his heart. His eyes glazed and his head fell to the side.

Anti shoveled the documents into her knapsack before pulling out a new sheaf of papers and spreading them over the table.

"Are you sure those documents will fool the Oligarchs?" Melanie asked.

"They don't need to," Anti said. "They only need to fool the jury. Wingnut is the only one who's seen them in full, and the Admiral and Vaniellis will uphold the ruling. But it seems that the dear governor has had a heart attack, brought on by stress." She put on her helmet. "How tragic. You know the plan from here?"

"Yeah," Melanie said. She retrieved a snuff box and removed a pill before stuffing it back into the hidden pocket of her dress. "Go out, announce that Wingnut had a heart attack, answer a few questions, and wait for Bluewhale to smuggle me out. Oh, and take your glass of wine. We don't need anyone thinking there was anyone else here."

"Is it poisoned?" Anti asked.

"No."

"Then don't mind if I do," she said. She drained the glass and quickly wiped the inside with one of the documents she had stolen before returning it to the shelf in the adjacent room. "Stay safe. I hope you're a good actor."

"I like to think so," Melanie said. She took the pill and immediately began feeling drowsy. It would wear off in a few minutes, but that was long enough to convince the courtroom that she was faint.

"Godspeed," Anti said. She exited through the door in the adjacent room, while Melanie exhaled, readying herself.

Showtime.

She flung the door open and ran shrieking into the expectant assembly. Instantly, the crowd erupted in confusion as they saw a poor servant girl run blubbering out of Wingnut's office.

Melanie felt her head clouding, and she fell to the floor. Bluewhale and the other Oligarchs were standing around her.

"What's wrong?" Bluewhale asked. He recited his lines with tact efficiency. "What happened?"

"The governor," she said through a haze of fake tears. "He asked for a drink but then he—he started staggering and grabbing his chest and now I think—I think he's—"

"Go find the governor!" someone yelled. A few men ran into the office, and Melanie couldn't help but be proud of her performance. She leaned back and saw Bluewhale, clearly satisfied with the commotion, and she fainted.

* * *

**August 26, 12 ATC**

**City of Edmund, Unoccupied Zone, Military Republic of Lancaster**

Generic brushed her hair in front of the mirror, trying desperately to get the snarls out. A meeting in less than five minutes, and she looked like some peasant farmhand after a day in the fields. Very unbecoming, but all she could do was keep brushing and hope that it would work.

She heard a knock on her chamber door. "Who's there?" she asked.

"Spiderplant," the voice replied. "The visitors are here."

"Both of them?"

"Yes," Spiderplant responded. Generic sighed and put down the brush. It seemed that tangled long hair would have to do.

"Tell them I'll be there in a moment," she said, "and tell Admiral Venom to meet us in the council room afterwards."

"Of course," Spiderplant said. "Shall I send them in?"

"Please do."

Spiderplant obeyed. As he left to fetch her two visitors, Generic moved her hair behind her shoulders and hoped her guests wouldn't notice.

After a few minutes, Spiderplant returned with their two guests. First to enter the room was Margrave Mei, ruler of Nuts and Dolts. Ever stoic, he pulled up a chair and took a seat. He had a sort of quiet superiority that reminded Generic of Various, though Mei was obviously more restrained.

Behind him was her second guest, President Horsea. Unlike the last time she saw him, he was noticeably more unkempt; his collar was half-up, half-down, and his suit was wrinkled. His eyes had bags under them, but despite his appearance, he still managed a charismatic smile as he sat down.

"Generic," he said. "I'm loving the new look."

"I'm not loving yours," Generic replied, half-joking, half-concerned. "You look… haggard. Have the duties of state become that stressful?"

"They certainly haven't been going smoothly," Horsea said. "You probably already know this, but we've stumbled upon some serious economic problems. There's been a bit of a downturn down south now that we don't need to manufacture or sell as many weapons and... it's been causing problems for all of us."

"It's the same up north," Mei said. "But for different reasons. My nation has enough in its coffers to stave off debt for a few years, but our neighbors have been acting...selfishly. Arkos is becoming markedly protectionist. That's becoming an issue for us."

"And did you hear about Oligarch Wingnut's death?" Horsea asked. "That's mighty suspicious if you ask me."

"Believe me, of anyone here, I know exactly how much of a pain Arkos can be," Generic said. "Take a look out the window. You see that down in the distance?"

Mei and Horsea squinted out the window. "We see," Mei said.

"That's not a town," Generic said. "It's an Arkosian garrison. The two-timers have withdrawn from the north, but they hold a presence here in the south for 'security reasons.'"

"You can't tell me you're surprised by that," Mei said. Generic sighed.

"No, I can't," she said. "They're a bunch of overzealous butchers. They cling to their talk of honor and duty, but I see this for what it truly is."

"Do enlighten us, then," Horsea said.

"There's an old saying in Lancaster: a lion roars louder when its claws are dull," Generic replied. "They're afraid. They're afraid of being toppled, of being overcome or replaced. All this aggression of theirs? It's a facade, to distract us from their weakness."

"Weakness?" Mei asked. "I don't see how they could be weak. If anything, these shows of power mean that they're more confident in their position than they were before."

"They're bluffing," Generic said. "Don't you see? They have a lot on their side, sure. They have their soldiers and their merchants, and to be sure, they're using them aggressively. But they're rotting on the inside. They're succumbing to their own overconfidence and their greed, and they don't even know it. But I do."

"And what makes you so sure?" Horsea asked. "Not that I wouldn't like to see the bastards knocked down a peg, but you seem to be taking a lot on faith."

"I know a lot about the politics of Arkos," Generic said, "what with being their next-door neighbor. I hear all sorts of gossip from my intelligencers. And that gossip tells me that they're vulnerable, no matter how much a show they're making to pretend they're not."

"And what do you propose we do about it?" Horsea asked. "This is all fine and good, but nobody wants to go to war again."

"Why ever not?" Generic asked. "Wasn't it you who said that your economy was suffering because nobody was manufacturing weapons anymore? Surely somebody wants to go to war again."

"You misunderstand," Horsea said. "_I _don't want to go to war again."

"Nor do I," Mei said. He nodded in agreement.

"Listen, and I will explain," Generic said. "There is a way for all of us to benefit from this. When Arkos falls, and it will if you follow my plan, then we shift the balance of power in our favor. Nobody will object if we carve up their land, Mei, between the two of us, nor if Horsea is awarded some of Arkos's coastal cities. Not, that is, if they attack first."

"And how do you plan to go about that?" Mei asked. "Arrogant they may be, it will be difficult to prod them to action."

"No, it won't," Generic said. "I have the perfect idea. But I'm afraid I must keep that up my sleeve."

Horsea and Mei exchanged glances. Generic was asking them to take a lot on faith, but what might they gain? Horsea decided to question her some more.

"Even if inciting war is easy," he said, "winning war might not be. Especially with their continued occupation. You would be at a disadvantage."

"Only if we fought just on land," Generic said with a clever glint in her eye. "I don't have enough supplies for a land campaign, but I certainly have enough to protect my borders from offensives."

"So, what's your plan to take them down?" Mei asked.

"We prey on their overconfidence," Generic said, eagerness in her voice. "I have no doubt that they would commit all their forces to attempting to invade us. But that leaves them vulnerable at the coasts."

"The coasts?" Horsea asked. He would have laughed had he not been so taken aback. "Do you really intend to take on the Arkosian navy? With what? River ships?"

"I may not have a navy," Generic said. "But I have the soldiers for an amphibious invasion. And Mei, don't you have some merchant ships lying around now? What with trade being slowed down and all."

"Well, yes, but," Mei said, anxious, "you don't mean to take on the Arkosian navy with a bunch of merchant ships, do you? They barely have cannons!"

"Right now, perhaps," Generic said.

"And where do you propose I get them from?" Mei asked.

"Why, Horsea, of course," Generic said. Horsea sat up.

"Me?"

"Yes," Generic said. "It would be so simple. Horsea imports iron and wood, now that they're cheaper because war manufacturing is down, and sells it to Mei at a markup. Mei uses the materials to convert his derelict merchant ships into sea battleships, and perhaps construct some more if time allows. Then, he rents the ocean fleet to me, and together, we storm Arkos from the ocean shores. We win, divvy it up between the three of us, and make a killing off of the killing. And the best part? Nobody can tell us we're unjustified, though we might have to keep a bit of Arkos alive just to appease Nitesco and Austin."

"You make big promises, Generic," Horsea said. "Can you keep them?"

"That depends on your cooperation," Generic said. "I'm offering you a lot for relatively little. And besides," she said, a cruel glint in her eye, "would you have come here if you had anywhere else to turn?"

Horsea and Mei exchanged glances. It could be worse.

"Fine, I'll bite," Horsea said. "As long as Mei does. I need customers, after all."

"I'm willing to join," Mei said. "But I expect you'll pay a fair price to rent my warships."

"Of course," Generic said. "You'll be well-imbursed for your efforts. And I'm sure the pleasure of knocking down the people who ruled your nation like a colony is a bonus, yes?"

Mei furrowed his brow. "I must take my leave, if we're finished here," he said. "If you plan to present this as the Diet, then I have much to do and little time to do it."

"I'll get those shipments in as soon as I can," Horsea said. "We can discuss volume and price on the way out."

"Speaking of the Diet," Generic said. "Mei, please bring Various along. I have a feeling he'll make things much more...interesting."

Mei cocked his head, but nodded. "That can be arranged. I bid you good night."

"See you around," Horsea said. He gave Generic a final wave before he left with Mei.

Generic let out a sigh of relief. Finally, that was squared away. She'd thought she would have to do much more convincing, but apparently that was not the case. Not that she was complaining, of course.

Generic took a seat on the windowsill and stared out at the Arkosian garrison. Within a year, it would be gone. Within a year, everything would be restored to its natural place. Arkos, that rotting travesty, would be wiped away, and she and her allies would reign supreme. And yet… she had doubts.

Would she succeed? Was this for her ambition or her people?

What would Amelia think?

Generic scoffed and shook these thoughts from her head. It didn't matter who it was for. The strong survived. The weak died. That was the way it was and always would be. She was fulfilling the laws of nature. Doing what she had to to survive Subreddit politics.

It was only right, she assured herself. She stepped away from the window and returned to her desk.

* * *

**September 5, 12 ATC**

**Kuroyuri Palace, Duchy of Anren, Kingdom of Renora**

Coronam sat at his desk, poring over the kingdom's finances. Too much was going into the military budget, but he could not persuade his generals to minimize that. A simple tax increase was out of the question. Hmm. Maybe he could reduce levies in exchange for a slightly raised tax rate. Yes, that would fix the problem. Now—

He heard a knock on the door. Coronam sighed. "Enter," he said.

The door opened. Alfonse pushed Opifexa, on her wheelchair, into the room. Coronam smiled.

"Alfonse," he said. "Come to see your father work?"

"I'm interested, but maybe later," Alfonse said. "You said you wanted to see me earlier?"

"That's right," Coronam said. "About the Diet. Opifexa, would you be a dear and check these logs? I'm afraid I've made an error somewhere."

"Of course," Opifexa said. She wheeled over to the desk and began shuffling through the papers. Coronam smiled at her and escorted Alfonse away.

They began walking through the halls of Kuroyuri Palace. "So," Alfonse said. "What about the Diet do you want to talk about?"

Coronam nodded. "My son, you are fourteen now. You are my heir. It is time that you learn the matters of state."

"That's wonderful, father," Alfonse said, "but what does that have to do with the Diet?"

"It has everything to do with the Diet," Coronam said. "This is a perfect opportunity for you to learn about your neighbors. Our friends, enemies, and those in between. I am going to have you accompany me to the Diet."

"Me?" Alfonse asked. "How—how much will I have to do?"

"You shouldn't be so fearful," Coronam said. "I know what you're capable of. But they don't. They will underestimate you because they think you are just a child. They will think you are like Inferno. But I know you are no fool, Alfonse."

"What's wrong with Inferno?" Alfonse asked. Coronam narrowed his eyes.

"Inferno isn't bad, but he is still a child," Coronam said. "And his family has caused a lot of problems for ours."

"I am still a child," Alfonse said.

"With potential," Coronam said. "Potential to become a great king. That potential… I'm unsure of whether Inferno possesses it. Perhaps if he does, you two can forge an alliance.

"But that is neither here nor there," Coronam continued. "The Diet will be an excellent opportunity for you to learn and gain experience. And, of course, for you to listen to what these people have to say. They won't be on their guard around you, which will allow you to perceive their hidden agendas."

"So, is that the only reason I'm here?" Alfonse asked, a little disappointed.

"Not at all," Coronam said. "But we must be sure not to let our guard down around these people. We must know what they are planning. You've met ones like Various and Bluewhale, yes? Do you trust them?"

Alfonse sighed. "No. I see your point. But—but you will teach me, right? You'll be there?"

"But of course," Coronam said. "You'll be with me for most of it. But this is still a year away, Alfonse. You have time to learn."

"Will you teach me?" Alfonse asked. Coronam smiled.

"Of course," he said. "There is much to be done."


	12. Chapter 12

**November 14, 12 ATC**

**Capitol Citadel, City of Immolata, Province of Lesser Arkos, Oligarchy of Arkos**

Bluewhale drummed his fingers on the table impatiently. Two of the Oligarchs, Reno and Ijustread, had yet to arrive. To his right sat Vaniellis. Vaniellis, true to form, had arrived on time and now occupied himself with the reports from the latest treason case the courts had prosecuted. To Bluewhale's left, Wingnut's old seat remained empty. The council was deadlocked on who his successor would be, which only made Bluewhale more convinced that the Oligarchy would have to go, whatever the method.

The doors on the opposite side of the room opened. Reno and Ijustread entered. Finally.

"Reno, Ijustread," Bluewhale said. "So glad you showed up promptly for our _urgent_ council meeting."

"We had other business to attend to," Ijustread said. "The other Presbyters were quite restless with their demands and complaints at my meeting. I thought they'd never let me leave."

"The budget committee is also breathing down our necks," Reno said. "The cost of occupation in Lancaster is growing obscene, not to mention the diplomatic backlash we're getting."

"This is not a discussion we need to have right now," Bluewhale said. "There are more pressing matters we need to address."

"More pressing than the budget?" Reno asked.

"Do tell," Ijustread said. He narrowed his eyes at Bluewhale.

"The investigators have concluded who murdered Wingnut," Vaniellis said. He set down his papers and glared in Reno and Ijustread's direction.

Reno narrowed his eyes at Vaniellis. "And who is that?"

"You. And Ijustread too," Vaniellis said. His sneer, and Bluewhale's unsubtle attempt to hide a triumphant grin, sparked something in Reno.

Reno slammed his fist on the table. "What is this?" he bellowed. "A coup? Or more of your foolishness? I will not permit such insolence!"

"You must have a great deal of evidence to convict not one but two Oligarchs," Ijustread said. He knit his fingers into a ball. "I would _love _to hear it."

"Vaniellis," Bluewhale said. "Please read the report."

Vaniellis cleared his throat and began reading off the paper he was holding. "Our investigators conclude," he said, "that Governor Wingnut did not die of an unexpected heart attack, but was, in fact, poisoned. Poison was discovered in a wine glass in his chambers, laced with concentrated holyroot."

"As I'm sure you're aware, holyroot only grows in Crocea," Bluewhale said. "And was, and apparently remains, a common poison among the clergy. How interesting." He narrowed his eyes at Ijustread.

"Preposterous. And circumstantial!" Ijustread yelled.

"There's more!" Vaniellis said. "A thorough investigation of the premises and the statement from Oligarch Reno himself shows that there would be no way for an assassin to enter without already being on the assigned security or staff. Reno is quoted as saying that 'all the staff and security were handpicked' by him for the event, casting significant doubt on his innocence."

"Significant doubt?!" Reno exclaimed. He slammed his fist on the table. "Admiral, what treason is this?"

"I am not the traitor here," Bluewhale responded coolly.

"I think we all know that you are!" Reno retorted. "It's one intrigue after another with you. First you play us all into thinking that a trial for Strike would be a good thing for the nation. That we would take accountability for our mistakes. But then, as soon as the trial swings round, Wingnut kicks the bucket and Strike, against all odds and the evidence, is exonerated. And now this! I don't know what game you're playing at, but you won't succeed!"

"A letter," Vaniellis continued, drawing the attention back to him, "was found on the scene, along with a discarded Arkosian uniform. Addressed to an Oligarch, it promises that Wingnut will die and that he will upset the balance of the Oligarchy no longer. Their words."

"Does it say which Oligarch?" Ijustread asked.

"No," Bluewhale said. "But—"

"Then your accusations are lies and slander!" Reno exclaimed. "Circumstantial and inconclusive evidence. You had motive too, Admiral, to assassinate him. The courts will not look kindly on you for these baseless insults to our character."

"You interrupted me," Bluewhale said, and he couldn't help but sneer. "I was about to say, the courts have already reviewed this case and found you both guilty."

Ijustread flinched, and was shocked into silence. Reno only fumed more. "What?" he asked. "Tried for treason? Without our knowledge? How—"

"The law is that the defendants do not need to be present during treason trials, or even to know," Bluewhale said. "Strike was only at his trial by my courtesy. And the judges deemed it fit to not inform you. Conflict of interest and all that."

"There is no precedent," Ijustread protested, though weakly.

"Actually, there is now," Vaniellis said. "Putting Strike on trial, even if he was an ex-Oligarch, means that they can be guilty of treason just like any of us. The courts are on our side, and soon the people will be too. You have failed, conspirators."

"You are a fool, Vaniellis," Ijustread replied. "And Bluewhale, you are a traitor. But I know my fate is sealed. I surrender."

"You're just—giving up?" Reno asked. "No. No! I will not suffer these slights to my honor! I won't—"

"Guards!" Bluewhale called. A squad of constables entered the room, flanked by the guards. They leveled their swords and spears at Reno and Ijustread.

"Reno," Ijustread said. "Enough. We're beaten."

For a moment, the anger and indignation in Reno's eyes flared brighter than ever. But then his eyes dimmed, his shoulders went slack, and he looked down at the floor.

"So be it," he murmured. The guards came forward to take him away, and he suddenly returned to life.

"Mark my words, Bluewhale," he said. "You'll fall. You'll be toppled, for you are both a fool and a traitor. And when you are overthrown, I hope I'm alive to spit on your corpse!"

"Relax," Bluewhale said. "I'm not going to kill you. But you will have your own little slice of the dungeons to live in. I'm sure you'll enjoy it there." He waved toward the door. "Guards. Take them away."

The guards dragged Reno and Ijustread away. The two convicted Oligarchs said nothing, nor attempted to struggle. They only glared at Bluewhale and Vaniellis as the door shut behind them.

"So," Vaniellis said. "What now?"

"Now, we set about remaking Arkos." Bluewhale took the papers and pocketed them. "The Oligarchy has failed us too many times."

"Remake?" Vaniellis said. "You mean… abolish the Oligarchy?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I intend to do," Bluewhale said. "For a long time, I thought that Vulpix's power plays over us were made out of greed. But perhaps I judged him too harshly. It is clear to me now that power, when spread across many people, is ineffective and vulnerable. It must be concentrated to have any effect. The corruption of Ijustread and Reno will be publicly exposed. The people will turn against them. And together, we will remake Arkos as it was supposed to be: protector of Junipera."

"With you at the helm?" Vaniellis asked. Bluewhale could not tell if he sounded suspicious or hopeful.

"I will take up Vulpix's mantle," Bluewhale said. "But I see potential in you too. You will be my Marshal. You will command my armies when the time comes to defend or expand our borders. Perhaps one day you will even succeed me."

"It will just be you and I?" Vaniellis asked. "I am honored, and I support your course of action, but you must recognize that two men cannot run the state alone. We must still delegate."

"And that is why I will have an advisor," Bluewhale said. "A man to navigate the court politics for me while I plan our nation's next moves. Strike! Please enter."

From the door out to the balcony, where the Oligarchs would have delivered speeches or announcements, Strike entered. He radiated confidence and smugness, emotions Bluewhale had not seen from him since the final strike against the Church.

"Were you out there this whole time?" Vaniellis asked.

"Listening intently," Strike said. "It was a dream come true to hear those two sycophants get their just desserts. But the time for celebration must be brief. We have much to do now, and little time to do it. But I have faith that the three of us can do great things."

"And you will remain faithful to Arkos?" Vaniellis asked. Strike's smile darkened a bit.

"I always have been," he said, "and always will be. Admiral." He paused. "It occurs to me I won't be calling you Admiral for much longer, Grand General."

Bluewhale smiled. "We still have a little time. Vaniellis, please tell the guards to spread word among the populace: I will be delivering a speech next morning. Strike, clean up any… loose ends we may have left."

"Of course," Strike said with inappropriate eagerness.

"It will be done," Vaniellis said.

"Tomorrow, when the country wakes up, it will awaken to a new era in our history," Bluewhale said. He chuckled gleefully. "I can hardly wait."

* * *

**February 2, 13 ATC**

**Presidential Mansion, City of Vernus, Republic of Springthyme**

Horsea sat in the office of his palace, stirring his tea. He had a relatively quiet day ahead: his meeting with the finance committee wasn't until two o'clock, so his schedule until then was open. Well, except for the meeting with the delegates from Monochrome, which had, according to Horsea's schedule, started ten minutes ago. Rubians, whether purposefully or by ignorance, always seemed to be late.

He heard a knocking on his door. Hopefully Sphinx. "Who is it?" he called out.

"Elyk," the voice said. "The Monochrome delegation is here. The, eh, two of them."

"Send them in." Horsea put down his papers. Only two of them? He would've expected Sphinx to bring some bodyguards with him.

But when the door opened, it wasn't Sphinx. It was Hozack. That explained it. Hozack was less careful, or perhaps just more confident, in his travels and dealings than his grandfather. Standing next to him was a seedy-looking man, perhaps a bodyguard or an assistant. It mattered little.

"President Horsea," Hozack said. He gave an exaggerated bow. Horsea could not tell if he was new to this or mocking him. He chose to believe the former.

"Prince Hozack," Horsea said. "Or is it Viceroy? Monochrome has such weird titles."

"Viceroy _and_ Prince," Hozack said. "Sphinx has ended Onyzyon's merchant republic. It's a kingdom now."

"Why am I not surprised?" Horsea wondered aloud. "And this man is…?"

"Peters, my aide," Hozack said. Peters gave Hozack a smile at this that suggested they had a closer than working relationship. "He follows me everywhere. I can't seem to get rid of him."

Peters rolled his eyes. "Such slander! Please, your eminence, do not believe him. He is a liar."

"We will see," Horsea said. "Elyk, please escort Peters to the guest quarters. We'll come fetch him once our meeting is over."

"Of course," Elyk said. "Come along now, Peters." Peters followed him, and Hozack closed the door behind them.

"Now," he said. "We can finally talk." He took a seat in the chair in front of Horsea's desk.

"Yes indeed," Horsea said. "With the Diet moving up and reconstruction coming along quickly, things look to be changing very rapidly."

"Perhaps war will return," Hozack said. His face was impassive. Horsea was unsure of what to make of that remark.

"I certainly hope not," Horsea said. "One war was long enough for my tastes, thank you very much. I'd rather not be dragged into another."

"Really?" Hozack asked. "It's bad, yes, but it's good for business."

"That doesn't mean I want it any more," Horsea said. "All the destruction and upheaval. No, that wouldn't be good for anyone."

"War is always good for the victors," Hozack said. "And like it or not, there seems to be a war brewing. Tensions between Lancaster and Arkos are rising, and the ever-nationalistic Bluewhale has usurped the entire country. It'll be, shall we say, something to watch."

"So long as I'm not dragged into it," Horsea said.

"Well, that's why we have allies," Hozack said. "To help each other in war, or to keep each other out of them. You must know, yes?"

"I must know?" Horsea asked. "What does that mean?"

"Well," Hozack said, with fake innocence. "You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself. Some of my Heroan friends told me that your nation had been hit hard by the end of the war economy, but here you are, chugging along. You must have some very generous trade partners."

"My dealings are never under the table," Horsea said. He hoped Hozack would ignore that falsehood.

"I didn't mean to imply any differently," Hozack said. "If you wish to keep your benefactors secret that is your choice. I just hoped that, perhaps, you would be willing to enter into a partnership with me."

"A trade partnership?" Horsea asked. "Aren't you a little far away for that?"

"Not a trade partnership, a political partnership." Hozack leaned back in his chair. "We have a lot of pull, you and I. And I think we can agree that the nations of the world need to be closer together, yes?"

"How much closer?" Horsea asked.

"Not much," Hozack said. "I was thinking along the lines of an interregional trade league. No more petty divisions. Everyone working together for the common good. And," he added, with a sly wink, "I bet you'd make an excellent administrator for this League."

Horsea looked down at his desk. A tempting offer, but Generic already had his support. To make any moves with Hozack would be problematic for him with her breathing down his neck.

"I will consider it," Horsea said. "Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?"

"No," Hozack said. "I'll be taking my leave. You have yourself a good day."

"You too, Hozack," Horsea said. "See you at the Diet."

"See you at the Diet," Hozack echoed, a dark tone in his voice. He left the room and closed the door behind him.

As Hozack walked through the waiting room, Peters stood up from his chair and followed him out. As they walked down the steps of the Presidential Mansion, Peters gave a cursory glance behind him before he retrieved the paper he had hidden in his cloak.

"Horsea's trading with a bunch of people," Peters said. "And more than just standard stuff. He's importing and exporting way more than he needs to. He's definitely stretching his merchants thin with this."

"What's he transporting?" Hozack asked.

Peters squinted at the paper. "Um, wood, mostly. Some iron. Cloth. Rope. This is definitely war material."

"How'd you get this information?" Hozack asked.

"I told you I have an accountant friend in these offices. He just so happened to be here. I had to bump into him in the halls for him to pass it without notice." Peters frowned. "It was awkward."

"But now we know he's supplying war materials to someone," Hozack said. "Where is most of this going to?"

"It's spread all over, probably to hide the trail," Peters said. He squinted at the papers. "But most is going to Nuts and Dolts."

"So," Hozack said. "The contact was right."

"Pardon?" Peters asked.

"Sphinx has an old friend in the Lancastrian diplomatic circles. He sells him information. And I heard a tip that Generic summoned both Horsea and Margrave Mei for a private meeting. And given how noncommittal Horsea acted when I offered him a _fantastic_ trade deal, I bet that those three are in some backdoor deal."

"To start a war?" Peters asked. Hozack shrugged.

"I don't know why, but it seems that way," he said. "Now we know. Now we can plan around it. And this is very convenient if I do say so myself."

"Just remember who found this out for you," Peters said.

"I always do," Hozack said. He gave Peters a peck on the cheek. "What would I do without you?"

"Hopefully we'll never find out," Peters said. They laughed together and continued walking down the steps.

* * *

**April 28, 13 ATC**

**Rufus House, County of Armed and Ready**

"So," Kazehh asked. "How long will you be gone?"

Austin shrugged and sipped her tea. "It depends. It takes about two weeks to get to Renora from here, two weeks back, and the proceedings themselves will probably last about two weeks themselves. So, six weeks in all, if that's too hard to add up."

"Ha ha," Kazehh said. He reclined further on the couch. "Six weeks with the little goblin lovechild?"

"He is not a little goblin," Austin said. "Most days. You know how to care for a baby?"

"I do," Kazehh said. "Jelo and I had this one contract in Gelato where—" He stopped himself. "Well, the details don't matter. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt how to care for a child. And you said the Countess would provide me with all the food and whatnot I would need?"

"She will," Austin said. "And if you have any complaints, you can take them up with her yourself."

"She's not going to the Diet?" Kazehh asked.

Austin shook her head. "After how the last one went, she promised never to attend another one."

"Well, I can't fault her for that," Kazehh said. "Are you going in her place?"

"No, she sent her husband," Austin said. "I'm one of the founding members of the Coalition, so I'm there in that capacity."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Austin sighed.

"That's probably my guards," Austin said. "The countess told me she would send a small detail with me." She turned to the door. "The door is unlocked! Come in!"

The door creaked open, and Austin heard two sets of footsteps move towards her living room. In the doorway, two men appeared. One was tall and gangly, with a shock of unruly brown hair on his head. The other was shorter but more built, with black stubble and hair. His face was rough with scars, and he had a determined look in his eye.

"Good morning," the tall one said. He sounded like he had rehearsed his greeting. "We're your bodyguards. I'm Futtle Scish, and this is—"

"Ausum?" Kazehh said. He laughed and stood up from the couch. The burly guard's expression softened and grew into a smile. He pulled Kazehh into a hug and noogied him.

"Please excuse my friend," Futtle said. "He's quite… expressive."

"You two know each other?" Austin asked. From Ausum's headlock, Kazehh nodded.

"We go way back," Ausum said. "I was the ringleader of the little gang of street kids Kazehh and Jelo were a part of. The founder. But then I was arrested for stealing and I… changed my ways."

"He means," Futtle said, "that the Countess offered him a deal: he could work for the government in exchange for being held outside prison. Eventually he overcame his, er, poor upbringing."

"And now here I am," Ausum finished. "Kazehh, buddy, I'd love to catch up, but the Countess wants us to swing around her villa with Austin before she departs. I'm sure you understand."

"I get it," Kazehh said. "I'll be upstairs. Just going to make sure that, ah, everything's alright."

"Futtle, go grab the carriage," Ausum said. "Bring it around. I'd like to talk with Austin for a little bit."

"But—" Futtle stopped himself. Austin couldn't help but notice his disappointment. "Sure," he said. As Kazehh went upstairs, Futtle went out the door to fetch the carriage.

"So," Austin said. "You knew Jelo."

"I did, yeah," Ausum said. "Like a little brother to me. Kazehh was the brawn and he was the brains. The perfect lieutenants. I made sure to pay them a visit now and again when they were still around."

"I think I remember hearing about you," Austin said. "I remember once, when we were older, that Kazehh and Jelo were caught by the constabulary for stealing. When they got back, they explained that 'an old friend' had let them out. In exchange for a fine sum, of course."

"Of course," Ausum said. "Business is business. If I was going to risk my brand-new job as a constable, it was going to be worth my while."

"Very cynical," Austin noted.

Ausum shrugged. "Maybe. I think of it as pragmatic. And Kazehh and Jelo would've done the same if our positions were reversed."

"I hope they were more generous than that," Austin said.

"Maybe they softened as the years went by," Ausum replied, a clever glint in his eye. "Or maybe you were just too young to remember what little shits they were."

"Ah, maybe," Austin said. "I like to think that Jelo didn't grow up to be that way."

"Can't speak for Kazehh, huh?" Ausum asked. They laughed. "Poor Jelo," Ausum said. "May he rest in peace."

"He's entombed in the Hero's Mausoleum, right?" Austin asked. Ausum nodded.

"He deserves it," Ausum said. "He died for his ambition: to become a hero. I can think of nothing more glorious than that."

Ausum's last comment struck a sour chord in Austin. Just as she was about to respond, she heard the sound of the carriage pulling around the front.

"That'd be Futtle," Ausum said. "I'll meet you out there. Tell Kazehh goodbye for me." As Ausum went out the door, Austin went up the stairs to the second floor.

As she arrived in the landing, she saw Kazehh walking out of the baby's room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He turned to Austin.

"Is he sleeping?" Austin asked.

"Oh yes," Kazehh said, proud of himself. "Like a, well, you know." He chuckled at his own joke.

"Kazehh," Austin said. "I don't anticipate much to go wrong at the Diet. But if something does go wrong, and I'm pulled away, will you take care of my son for me while I'm occupied?"

"Of course," Kazehh said. "Don't worry about that. Try not to piss anyone off at the Diet, yeah?"

"Yeah," Austin said. She pulled Kazehh in for a hug. "Stay safe, Kazehh."

"I was about to tell you the same thing," Kazehh said. "Goodbye."

With a final smile, Austin made her way downstairs and out into the front yard, where the carriage sat. Ausum was in the driver's seat, and Futtle was standing next to the carriage door, holding it open for her with a broad smile. Austin entered the carriage, staring out the window at the house as Futtle closed the carriage door and climbed aboard. As the carriage departed, she saw Kazehh in the upper window, holding her son, waving goodbye with the baby's little hand, before he turned and walked away.


	13. Chapter 13

**May 13, 13 ATC**

**Valkyrie Hall, Duchy of Anren, Kingdom of Renora**

The clock tower of Valkyrie Hall cast a long shadow in the afternoon sun. Austin marveled at its construction as her carriage pulled into the square. The place was abuzz with diplomats and representatives, and she felt quite eager.

The carriage came to a stop in front of the hall's entrance. Futtle hopped down and opened the door for her.

"Thank you, Futtle," Austin said.

Futtle bowed. "No problem at all."

"There's no need to bow," Austin said. "I'm no royal."

"Of course," Futtle said. He straightened out. "Ausum, can you park the carriage? Keep the bird safe for me." Austin poked her head into the carriage. Quail was still fast asleep on the cushions.

"Sure," Ausum said. "Don't start any fights without me." He laughed to himself as he drove the carriage off.

"Are you sure letting him have the carriage was a good idea?" Futtle asked. Austin chuckled.

"Perhaps not," Austin said. "But at least with him around nobody will steal it."

"Maybe," Futtle said. "I have to say, I'm looking forward to seeing you in action."

"Oh?" Austin asked. Futtle nodded.

"Ever since I was young, I wanted to be a diplomat," he said. "Go out, meet people, see the world. But my father forced me into the service, you see. I dunno. I guess I was hoping that watching you could teach me something."

"I'm hardly the only diplomat in the room," Austin said. "And I'm not the greatest."

"But I do admire you," Futtle said. "You're a national hero. And you're a lot more personable than I expected a war hero to be. I'm just, ah, taken aback, is all."

Austin nodded. "High praise. Make sure you watch the room, though, too."

"Yes, ma'am," Futtle said. They continued the walk up the stairs in silence.

When they reached Valkyrie hall, they found that the hall was already swarming with diplomats. Food and drink had been laid out in reception: the tables were covered in the finest meats, cheeses, and fruits that Renora had to offer, interspersed with kegs and casks of wine, mead, and beer. The diplomats here were peaceable, talking and chattering like old friends. Austin wondered if they would be so civil tomorrow.

"Austin?" A voice behind her called. Austin turned around. It was Nitesco.

"Nitesco!" she said. "I'm surprised you found me so quickly in this mess."

"Just in the right place at the right time," Nitesco said. "It's good to see you."

"You too," Austin said. She turned to Futtle. "Futtle, go find Ausum. Stand by the door and wait for me to return."

"Are you sure?" Futtle asked.

"I'll be fine," Austin said. "I appreciate your diligence, but you don't need to worry about me."

"If you insist," Futtle said, clearly disappointed. He made his way back to the entrance.

"And now we can have some peace and quiet to ourselves," Austin said. "Or, as much as we'll get in this setting."

"He's very earnest," Nitesco noted. Austin chuckled.

"He's young," Austin said. "Reminds me of, well, me, when I was younger."

"I don't think you were ever that unsubtle, though," Nitesco said.

"Maybe not," Austin said. "But I still like the kid."

Together, they made their way over to the refreshments table. As they did, Nitesco began talking again.

"How's, ah, the house?" he asked. "Is it in good hands?"

"Yes, the 'house' is in good hands," Austin said. "I have every confidence that Kazehh will take good care of it."

"Kazehh?" Nitesco said. "Are you sure he's a good caretaker?"

"He'll protect the 'house' with his life," Austin said. "Don't worry. The countess will give him everything he needs, in case the house gets sick—with, uh, termites."

"That's good, I suppose," Nitesco said. "I trust your judgement."

"Thank you," Austin said. She paused. "So, anything interesting happen yet?"

"It's been quiet," Nitesco said. "I can sense something's going on, but it's all very hush-hush. Speaking of which…" He removed a small note and put it in Austin's pocket.

"What's this?" Austin asked.

"I found it on my dresser when I woke up this morning," Nitesco said. "Read it, and you'll understand. Now if you'll excuse me, I think the King of Emberald wants me to talk to him."

"Have fun," Austin said. Nitesco smiled at her.

"I'll try," he said. As he walked off, Austin unfolded the note.

_Nitesco,_ the note read. _Meet me tonight at the Drunk Archer Tavern. Go to the back room. A man will be there waiting for you. We have things to discuss. Pass this letter along to Austin. The instructions are the same for her. The Mask._

So, Yukon had returned from retirement. Must be serious, Austin thought. Maybe even worrying.

But that would have to wait. There were hundreds of people about. It was her diplomatic duty to mingle.

"This had better be good, Yukon," Austin muttered to herself. She shoved the note in her pocket and walked into the crowds.

Mei hovered around the drinks table and chatted with a few of the other diplomats. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Various going to town on yet another cask of mead. When Generic told him to bring Various, Mei guessed it was a bid to stir things up. Mei was skeptical, at first, but he was beginning to see the merits of her plan.

A few of the diplomats suddenly began whispering amongst themselves. "The Arkosians are here," one of the Juniperans said. Mei groaned. Wonderful, he thought. The Arkosians.

Various made his way over to Mei's side of the table. "What's going on?"

"It seems the delegation from Arkos has arrived," Mei said. At the same time, they both spotted Bluewhale's head bobbing through the crowd.

"Oh, excellent," Various said. "Don't mind me, I'll be supervising the desserts table."

Mei turned back and saw that Bluewhale was beelining towards him. He sighed.

"Admiral Bluewhale," Mei said in greeting. Bluewhale gave him a small nod.

"It's Grand General," Bluewhale said. "There's been a shift in power."

"So I've heard," Mei said. "Grand General, huh? That's the same title Vulpix took right before he started conquering things. And right after he subsumed my nation."

"Vulpix was just a conqueror," Bluewhale said. "I am a preserver. In times like these, the people need someone to protect them and their way of life."

"Preserve them like you did their democracy?" Mei asked. "Or whatever system you had that was disguised as a democracy?"

"You're one to talk," Bluewhale said. "You're a noble, are you not?"

"I am," Mei said. "But I don't pretend that I'm not."

Bluewhale opened his mouth to respond, but noticed that Various was walking over to them. He pulled himself together.

"Various," he said. "I haven't seen you in some time."

"And I you," Various said. "Been a long time since I've seen anyone outside the manor."

"The excitement here will do you some good," Mei said. Various rolled his eyes.

"You keep saying that, but I doubt that I'll have the chance to do anything besides listen to a bunch of self-important bureaucrats moan about their problems. No offense," he said, pointing at them both.

"I wasn't offended until you said no offense," Bluewhale said.

"I'm sure you'll have a chance," Mei said. "You know how these things can end up being."

"I wouldn't be displeased if that happened," Various said. "Maybe I'd even get a few more souvenirs."

"Perhaps you would," Bluewhale said, clearly disdainful. "Forgive me, gentlemen, but I must mingle elsewhere. Good day." Mei gave a halfhearted wave as Bluewhale walked off.

"I'm going back to the desserts table," Various said. "Don't die."

"Thanks for the advice," Mei said. As Various returned to the food, Mei made his way around the room. On the other side of the room, near the entrance, he spotted Generic talking to her co-generals. As he approached, Generic gave a hasty goodbye and broke away.

"How's Various working out?" she asked.

"Splendidly," Mei said. "He already got under the great Grand General's skin. You were right. He certainly will spice things up a bit."

"Excellent," Generic said. As she scanned the room, she locked on to Bluewhale, still making his rounds. Mei watched her face sour as she looked at him.

"Does he irritate you that much?" Mei asked.

"He's more than my political opponent," Generic said. "He's a cultural one too. The Arkosians talk a big game about tradition, honor, preservation, all that good stuff. 'To protect their culture' or their reputation or some garbage like that. They don't understand how the real world works."

"And how does it work?" Mei asked.

"In Lancaster," Generic replied, "we believe that change is necessary for survival. If something burdens you, if it has no place in the present world, then it must be cast aside. Tradition means nothing, honor means nothing, if it stands in the way of success. If it leads you to act in a way contrary to your best interests, or if it makes you vulnerable, it has no place in the world."

"How very ruthless," Mei asked.

"My philosophy has not failed me yet," Generic said. "There can be no room for guilt or hesitation. Hesitation is defeat. We must see our plan through to the end."

"You still haven't told me what this plan is," Mei asked.

"You'll know it when you see it," Generic said.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Mei said. "I don't want to—are you paying attention?"

Something had caught Generic's attention. Mei followed her eyes to the entrance on the other side of the room. The Presbyter of Tiamat, MacGregor, and Amelia had entered. Generic looked away, her face tinged red.

"What were you saying about no guilt?" Mei asked. He knew he sounded smugger than he should have been, but he didn't care.

"Shut up," Generic said. "Go mingle with the other diplomats. I have to talk to my generals."

"If you insist," Mei said. He smiled to himself as Generic disappeared into the crowd, in the opposite direction of Amelia.

Sphinx hobbled through the room of diplomats, surrounded by his entourage: Peters, Hozack, and his personal bodyguard. He no longer had the patience for the pompous brats he was forced to mingle with today, nor the circumstance of mass gatherings. All he wanted to do was go to the lodgings Coronam had provided him and sleep. But he had to make appearances now and again just to prove that he hadn't died or that Hozack hadn't quietly usurped him.

His bodyguard noticed Sphinx's difficulty walking and put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you going to make it?" she asked. Her voice was muffled by her helmet.

"I'm not feeble yet," Sphinx said.

"Yet being the operative word," Peters noted. Hozack shot him a look.

"Peters!" Hozack scolded. Sphinx chuckled.

"Relax, Hozack," Sphinx said. "He's not entirely wrong."

"Doesn't mean he has to say it," Hozack said.

"Please, gentlemen," Sphinx said. "I'm not deaf yet either. Let's just meet Coronam and retire to our quarters to discuss more there."

"Fair enough," Hozack said. "Do you know where Coronam is?"

"Right behind you," a deep voice said. Peters jumped in surprise and Sphinx turned around to see Coronam standing behind him, with Prince Alfonse at his side.

"Our gracious host appears," Peters said.

"King Coronam," Sphinx said. "And Prince Alfonse. A pleasure."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Alfonse said. He gave a bow.

Peters chuckled. "Well, Coronam," he said. "You've trained the little man well, haven't you?"

"I was about to say the same to Hozack," Coronam replied. Peters's smile dimmed. Sphinx and Hozack started laughing. Even Alfonse had to try to hide a smirk.

"Just as sharp as ever," Hozack said. "Do you mind if I go grab some drinks?"

"Go right ahead," Coronam said. "Grab me a keg of mead while you're over there."

"Get me a glass of the finest wine here," Sphinx said. "Spare no expense."

"Right," Hozack said. He walked off towards the drinks table, Peters following close behind.

"Alfonse," Coronam said. "Go tell a servant to restock the drinks table. We're almost out, by the looks of it."

Alfonse nodded and left without another word. Only Coronam, Sphinx and Sphinx's bodyguard were left.

"So, how difficult is arranging all this?" Sphinx asked. "Be honest."

Coronam sighed. "It's not all it's cracked up to be," he said. "But I get to be in control of the situation. Last Diet, we had no overseers. We had no speaker. Nobody could keep the situation under control. But if anyone here can do that now, it's me."

"An excellent point," Sphinx said. "Do you anticipate any trouble?"

"No more than last time, I hope," Coronam said. "But I've learned by example. I must take precautions." He paused. "Your bodyguard is awfully quiet."

"As a bodyguard should be," Sphinx said.

"I did not mean to imply anything," Coronam said. "Merely that it's become a pattern to see lords with very loud bodyguards. It's a welcome change."

"You flatter me, my lord," Sphinx's bodyguard said. She twitched.

"Your voice sounds familiar," Coronam said. "Have we met?"

The bodyguard shook her head. "I don't believe so," she said. "I think I would've remembered."

"We're back," Hozack said. He handed a mug of mead to Coronam. Sphinx took a glass of wine from Peters. Hozack and Peters clinked their bottles of beer together before each took a sip.

"It's been a pleasure," Sphinx said, "but I really must be going now. Our quarters?"

"First floor, east wing," Coronam said. "A servant there will direct you. Good day to you."

"And to you," Sphinx said. As they turned and headed towards the east wing, Peters groaned.

"The beer here is atrocious," he said. "I should've stuck with the mead."

"That's hardly our biggest concern," Sphinx said. "Did you do as planned?"

Peters nodded. "By this time tomorrow," he whispered. "Coronam will be feeling very ill."

"Excellent," Sphinx said. "Hozack, you're sure about the Lancastrians and the Arkosians?"

"I'm almost 100% sure there'll be an issue between them," Hozack said. His voice dropped low as he leaned into Sphinx's ear: "And without Coronam to control them, tensions should increase dramatically."

"Then everything is in order," Sphinx said. "Peters, Hozack, go mingle some more. My bodyguard will escort me to my room."

"Of course," Peters said.

"Be well, grandfather," Hozack said. They turned away, leaving Sphinx and his bodyguard to go to the suite together.

"They're eager for tomorrow," his bodyguard noted.

"I can respect that," Sphinx said. "It's the vivaciousness of youth. So long as that does not become recklessness, I will allow it." He stopped in front of a servant. "Excuse me, young man, where is the suite for Lord Sphinx?"

"Just three doors down," the servant said. Sphinx nodded and continued on.

"You think that things will come to a head here?" the bodyguard asked.

"I've been around long enough to know the scent of war," Sphinx said. "And right now… it's overwhelming. There's no question about it." Sphinx arrived at the doors of his suite and pushed them open.

As they entered, Sphinx took a look around. It was well-decorated: a table, desk, couch, and several cabinets adorned the man room. In the back were two bedrooms, each with two separate beds, and a privy room. Sphinx shut the doors behind them.

"So, Anti," he said. "What do you think?"

Anti took off her helmet. "Four beds," she said. "Means I won't have to sleep on the couch." She paused. "Do I have to wear this helmet tomorrow? It's hard to breathe in."

"I know," Sphinx said. "But that's a trick I know works. Seriously, you'd be surprised how few door guards ask people to take off their helmets."

"If only I had done that…" Anti said. She shook her head. "Never mind. When do we meet the others?"

"We meet Yarg and Melanie after tomorrow's session," Sphinx said. "Topiary was preoccupied by his bank work, so he couldn't come. If anything goes awry tomorrow, we'll fix it up then."

"I did always admire your forethought, Sphinx," Anti said.

"I admire it in myself too," Sphinx said. He sat down on the couch with a wheeze. "Perhaps not for much longer."

"Don't think about that," Anti said. "There's still work to do."

"Yes, indeed," Sphinx said. "But my grandson will be the one to finish my work. I've made my peace with that."

"For the common good, of course," Anti said.

Sphinx smiled. "For the common good."

**May 13, 13 ATC**

**Outside the Drunk Archer Tavern, Duchy of Anren, Kingdom of Renora**

Austin sat on a bench outside the Drunk Archer, waiting for Nitesco. She looked up at the sign. A caricature of an archer carelessly aiming his bow straight up was painted just below the tavern's name. She rolled her eyes.

Out of the corner of her eye, Austin saw Nitesco arrive. As he walked up to her, he flashed a guilty smile.

"Waiting long?" he asked.

"Not terribly," Austin said. "I hope we don't look out of place here."

"I doubt anyone could recognize us," Nitesco said. "It's not like criminals are often consorting with heads of state."

Austin sighed. "Let's just duck in and get this over with."

"You said it," Nitesco said. He pushed open the door, and Austin followed him in.

They were surprised. When they got inside, both of them were astounded by the sheer number of diplomats inside. Clearly, they were not the only ones from the Diet who decided to go out into town that night.

"My god," Austin said.

"Well, we certainly won't look out of place here," Nitesco said. He paused. "Is that Various?"

Austin turned her attention to the stage. To her disbelief, Various was up on stage, singing a bawdy song about seducing a ratcatcher's daughter. Another man was up there with him, singing along in a thick, but slurred northern accent.

"So I gathered some rats and released them," Various sang. "For that meant the ratcatcher would be called away! With father distracted and daughter attracted, she then asked me over to her house to stay!" Various attempted what appeared to be a dance move, but stumbled backwards into his singing partner.

"I didn't know he could sing," Austin said.

Nitesco chuckled. "That is hardly the most noteworthy thing about this."

"But then came the dawn, I should have been gone," Various sang, his voice swelling. "For the ratcatcher, he came home early to see that his daughter I laid, and on that day what the ratcatcher caught in his trap was me!" The two men's voices burst with enthusiasm, and the entire tavern burst into drunken cheers.

Various stood there, basking in the cheers of the audience. His eyes fell on Nitesco and Austin, and he stepped down from the stage to greet them.

"Hey, you guys!" he said. "Man, it's been a while! Did you like the song?"

"It was excellent," Nitesco said. "Who's your friend?"

Various turned to his singing partner, who was staggering over to greet them. "Allow me to introduce Prince Blaze of Freezerburn," he said. "Heir to the Freezerburn throne."

"Charmed," Blaze said. He waved at them. Austin wrinkled her nose at the smell of strong liquor.

"Freezerburn, huh?" Austin said.

"Yeah," Blaze said. "What of it?"

Austin decided it was best not to remind Blaze of what Gwydion did to his father. "Nothing. You two are decent singers."

"I like to think so," Various said. "Blaze, run along now. I'd like to catch up with these two."

"Suit yourself," Blaze said. "I'll be at the bar."

As Blaze walked off, Various returned his attention to Austin and Nitesco. "So, why are you guys here?" he asked

"Just going out into town," Nitesco said. "How about you?"

"Yeah, it's a bit of a weird story," Various said. "The Mask—you remember him, right? He slipped me a note telling him to meet me here at evening, and that I would be meeting you two here too." He stopped. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Our notes didn't say anything about you," Austin said.

"Technically there was only one," Nitesco said.

"Figures he'd leave out the details," Various said. "Ah, well. Now that you're here, we can get going."

"The back room?" Nitesco asked.

"This way," Various said. He led them both into the back of the tavern. Past the stairs to the cellar, Various spotted a man standing outside a door.

"Rasera," Various said. "Lovely to see you again."

"Are you all here?" he asked.

"There's three of us," Various said. "Can you count that high?"

"Wiseass," Rasera said. He opened the door and let them in. The Mask was sitting at a desk, his feet kicked up. Three chairs formed a half-circle in front of the desk. As the three of them sat down, Rasera closed the door behind them.

"Austin. Nitesco. Various." The Mask sat up straight. "It's good you're here."

"So, what's the news?" Austin asked.

"I'll keep this straight and to the point," the Mask said. "This Diet… something is going on behind the scenes. I believe someone is trying to start a war."

"Start a war?" Nitesco asked. "Why?"

"To strengthen their own power base," the Mask said. "Tensions are running high. Now would be the perfect time to do it. For example, the Arkosian leadership has been consolidating. I suppose that's obvious, what with the Oligarchy being dissolved. Vulpix's old title of Grand General has been claimed by—"

"Bluewhale," Austin said. "Yes. That is unfortunate."

"There's more," the Mask said. "I know a man who has several prominent friends there that says Bluewhale's opponents are being dismissed from their posts, and a few are even being imprisoned for treason. The entire state is being streamlined to his command. The last time Arkos centralized like this was before Celtic's Revolt. I don't think I need to spell it out for you."

"If this is true, who do they intend to attack?" Nitesco asked. "Or rather, who will attack them?"

"Someone in Nuts and Dolts," the Mask said. "Though they've been preparing for war too, by the looks of it." He put several heavily redacted ledgers down on the table, detailing a list of rentals from Nuts and Dolts. Various furrowed his brow.

"What is this?" he asked. "What does Nuts and Dolts have to do with this?"

"It would appear that someone is building a fleet in their ports," the Mask said. "I know a woman who runs a massive ring of informants and favor-traders. She told me about this. I sent my best private investigator there, who came back with the same results. There are preparations for war."

"This is—unfortunate," Nitesco said. "I didn't think I'd have to pick up a sword again so soon."

"But Mei," Various said. He seemed struck by disbelief. "Why would he do this?"

"The same reason anyone does anything," the Mask said. "Profit."

"This doesn't prove anything," Austin said. "People rent out shipyards all the time."

"Not at this time, and not with this volume," the Mask said. "Maybe you're right, but it's far better to be safe than sorry."

"So," Various said. "What are we supposed to do? Confront them?"

"I don't know," the Mask said. "That part's up to you, though I wouldn't advise confrontation. But I thought you should know."

"Why?" Austin asked. "I don't want to sound rude, but you aren't exactly a humanitarian."

"I've seen enough war for one lifetime," the Mask said. "And besides, my business is more profitable during peacetime."

"Well," Nitesco said. "I suppose we should thank you for bringing this to our attention."

"Of course," the Mask said. As the three of them stood to leave, he spoke up again.

"Wait," he said. "If you do decide to pursue this, be careful. A lot of the agents I sent after this… they didn't come back."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Various asked.

"It means," the Mask said, "that there may be someone out there with a vested interest in keeping these proceedings under wraps. Someone with a wide array of resources, by the look of it. Stay vigilant."

"Thank you," Austin said. "We won't forget this." They walked out, shutting the door behind them.

The Mask had only a few moments to himself before someone opened the door to the cellar behind him. He sighed.

"They seem reluctant," Vulpix observed. His beard had become scattered with white in his retirement, and his hair had become a bit more disheveled. Still, though, anyone could recognize it was him.

"I can't really blame them," the Mask said. "And I still don't know why you can't do this yourself."

"I can't confront Bluewhale directly," Vulpix said. "He can expose me. And if he exposes me, then he'll find out who you are too, Yukon."

"Hmm," Yukon grumbled. He undid his mask and set it on the table. "Perhaps. It's a dangerous game we play."

"Indeed," Vulpix said. He noticed Yukon staring at the mask uncomfortably. "We wouldn't want your profit margins to get hurt, would we?"

"Shut up," Yukon said. Vulpix sighed.

"If you don't want to admit that you care, that's fine," he said. "But we still have a job to do. What did Puzzarian and Soli say?"

"Soli's informants have found nothing particularly damning about any of the diplomats," Yukon said. "And Puzzarian is far away right now. We'll have to make do with what we know now."

"Never thought I'd live to see the day when we were trying to stop a war instead of fight one," Vulpix said. "It's a nice change of pace."

"Yes," Yukon mumbled. Vulpix cast a skeptical glance at him.

"Well," Vulpix said. "I'm going back up to my room. Tell Rasera good night for me."

"Of course," Yukon said. He ignored the sound of Vulpix walking out. He was still thinking about what he'd said.

Stopping a war, instead of starting one? Vulpix was right, it did sound ironic. Still, that was hardly the most pressing thing. Yukon sighed and put his mask back on before reviewing the ledgers one more time.


	14. Chapter 14

**May 14, 13 ATC**

**Ballad Auditorium, Duchy of Anren, Kingdom of Renora**

Just after noon. The auditorium was nearly filled now. The last few representatives filed in and took their assigned seats. In the crowd, Coronam spotted Austin and Nitesco, seated not very far apart (not that they were ever far apart). On the opposite side was the Arkosian delegation, seated as far as physically possible from the Lancastrians, who were at the very back of the room. Coronam would have been pleased with his work, if he had been able to stand and see it.

Coronam was sweating, but still cold. As he sat and overlooked the room, he was aware that he looked like shit. He felt it too: he had the strength to stand, but speaking was difficult. Projecting was out of the question. Figures that he would catch whatever he had not days or weeks, but hours before the Diet's opening.

After a few more uncomfortable minutes, Coronam was sure everyone was there. He sighed and stood up.

He started to speak, and he noticed his voice sounded hoarse. "By the power invested in me by the gathered assembly—"

"Speak up!" Some minor nobleman chided him. Coronam grabbed the nearest pencil he had and flung it at the upstart. It landed on the desk in front of the lord (impressive, Coronam thought, given his fatigue) and the look on the man's face told Coronam that his point had been made.

Coronam made sure to put more effort into speaking this time: "By the power invested in me by the gathered assembly, I now declare this Diet open! Present your requests."

At once, the assembly erupted in clamor, each lord begging to be the first to resolve whatever insignificant matter they saw fit to bring up. Coronam groaned and returned to his seat.

"Father," Alfonse called from his seat nearby. "You look ill. Are you alright?"

"I am fine," Coronam said. "Though not exactly looking forward to this."

Alfonse shifted uncomfortably. "I can have—"

"Don't worry," Coronam said. "I have it under control."

Alfonse looked out into the clamoring assembly, clearly unconvinced, but he kept quiet.

* * *

It took a few hours, but the Diet had finally shifted from resolving individual problems to the large questions left in the wake of the Church's defeat. That had bored Austin, but she pretended to be attentive until they moved to more important topics. The current issue was what was to be done with the Church's remnants, and Nitesco was delivering a passionate speech asking mercy for the civilian converts.

"...so long as they do no harm, they invite no harm upon them." Nitesco finished his speech. He sat down, and though he did not show it, he was proud of himself. He looked over at her, and she gave him a subtle thumbs-up.

Margrave Mei stood to give his rebuttal. "What of the ranking members?" he asked. "Several are still at large. Several more are known, but have sheltered themselves in the converted communities. Should we leave these war criminals be because they 'do no harm?'"

"We should not countenance criminals," Austin said. "But neither should we exact punishment on all of them for the deeds of one man. It is best to recapture these criminals, but we must be careful not to do so violently, lest we provoke a rebellion."

"Well said," Futtle whispered. Ausum rolled his eyes.

"What does it matter?" a voice, previously unheard, bellowed. Everyone was surprised to see that Prince Blaze of Freezerburn had stood to tell them off. "Why," he asked, cradling his head, "do you care about what these people have done during the war. Half of you were collaborators anyways. Damn near the rest of you didn't resist in any way. Judge not lest ye be judged."

"Rich talk coming from the man whose father signed a deal with Jannis himself!" Inferno yelled. The assembly murmured at a child speaking with such venom.

"And he died, didn't he boy?" Blaze said. He steadied himself on the bar in front of him. "Same as your predecessor. And let's not pretend that the _Coalition_ wasn't guilty of some underhanded tactics either!" He shot a glare at Nitesco and Austin. "We've all suffered. We've paid the price for our foolishness, and so have the Church. I say leave the fuckers to their own devices, as long as they leave us to ours."

Before anyone else spoke, Amelia raised her hand. Coronam, sweating profusely, merely pointed at her.

"Movement to table this discussion?" she said.

"So moved," Prince Alfonse said at once.

"Seconded," Austin said. She could feel Blaze's eyes on her. Coronam stood.

"A vote, then," he breathed. "All in favor?"

Aside from the major debaters, most of the representatives raised their hands. Surprisingly, even Bluewhale and Generic voted to table the discussion. That earned the attention of a few people, but they chose to let it slide.

"Very well," Coronam said. "Our next order of business?"

General Generic was the first to raise her hand. Coronam pointed.

"Movement to discuss the future of the Sans Coalition," she said. Austin looked to Nitesco. 'The future.' Too ominous a term, she realized, for the discussion to be about anything but disbanding it.

"So moved," Taco said. That didn't surprise Austin. Taco, from what they knew of him, would always take the opportunity to knock a potential opponent down a peg.

"Seconded," Bluewhale said. _That_ was surprising. Austin scrutinized him, but he seemed totally impassive.

"The floor is opened," Coronam said. At once, Generic stood to deliver her remarks.

"The Coalition was founded on a noble goal," she said. "To rid our lands of the Church's influence. To cast off these foreign invaders. Wonderful. But it is done now. Jannis is dead. The Church is in shambles. I see no need for this coalition to exist any longer."

"I see no reason for it to be dissolved," Nitesco said. "It is not a threat to anyone, and as you say, it is dedicated to ensuring that no one man or entity holds dominion over the whole Subreddit. Is that not a worthy goal?"

"Who are you to decide what does and does not constitute a threat?" Mei asked. Austin did not miss the side-eye Various gave him.

"With respect, Margrave," Austin said. "I think we'll know it when we see it."

Light laughter. Mei looked chagrined. Behind her, Ausum and Futtle snickered at his indignation.

"I still see no reason for it to continue existing," Taco said. "It is always good to have safeguards, yes, but I am worried about the phrasing of it. It is a coalition, not a league, which is decidedly more political in definition. You are not bound by a single purpose, as much as you say you are. I am worried that this coalition may become too powerful a bloc."

"Do you yourself not run a League?" Nitesco asked.

"I do," Taco said. "But leagues are bound by certain immutable ties: religion, culture, and the like. This Coalition of yours is distinctly less defined. What constitutes a great threat? How stringently are the rest of us expected to follow you? There is too much leeway for politicking and abuse. I say we dismantle it for everyone else's security."

"Is there a reason you wish for our greatest peacekeeping force to be disbanded, Taco?" Bluewhale asked.

"Who decided that it was our peacekeeping force?" Taco retorted. "I distinctly remember _nobody_ assigning the Coalition that role."

"It is not up to you to decide what role you play for us," Amelia agreed. She punctuated her statement with a well-practiced glare at Bluewhale. Austin could have sworn she saw her glance at Generic too.

"But it is still our responsibility to commit to the goals of security," Bluewhale said. "The duty of the Coalition is to protect and secure the entire Subreddit. That is the burden we shouldered when we took on the Church."

"Exactly," Inferno said. "The Church. Now that the Church is gone, you should step down too."

"Please," Alfonse said. "We are splitting hairs. Let us return to the present matter, not what has been done."

"The issues of your 'responsibility' still stand," Taco said, eyeing Bluewhale. "You cannot decide what role you play for us without our consent."

"The Coalition cannot be dismantled by the Diet," Austin said. "There is no way for that to happen. It is not legally permitted. But if we are to discuss its role in the future, let us do so now."

"Austin speaks true," Hozack said. "I see no reason for the Coalition to be treated any differently than any other league or set of alliances. On that, I believe there are no grounds to dismantle it, because it is not the purview of the Diet to do so.

"However," he said, "I believe that the Coalition should still obey the will of the Diet, given its unique history. It seems only fair."

"All of the burdens and none of the benefits," Bluewhale said.

"Weren't you the one who claimed to shoulder these burdens?" Generic asked, breaking her silence. "If you did so out of duty, as you claim, then you should not demand any benefits."

"You are part of the Coalition too," Bluewhale said. His voice was cold, but still full of venom.

"And you don't hear me arguing about what we are or what we should be," Generic said. "The Coalition is a product of history, but that does not entitle us to special treatment."

"I think we have exhausted this topic for now," Nitesco said. "Movement to table this discussion for later?"

"So moved," Austin said.

"Seconded," some minor lord said. A quick show of hands indicated that the assembly was almost unanimous. Coronam stood up again.

"The discussion is tabled," he said. "Now, I believe we have time for one more issue before we disperse for the day."

General Generic raised her hand. Coronam gestured for her to speak.

"Movement to discuss the continued occupation of the Lancaster border-lands by Arkos."

"Ah, shit," Futtle muttered. Austin glanced at the faces around her. Nitesco's face had become furrowed with worry. Futtle and Ausum, though they didn't know the full context, were still visibly nervous. And Various, across the room, looked oddly resigned.

Austin pursed her lips. Of course, she thought to herself. Of course Generic would look for a confrontation. By the look on Bluewhale's face, she knew that he would rise to it too.

"So moved," Bluewhale said through gritted teeth.

A pause. For a moment, it seemed that nobody would rise to second it, and that the movement would pass unmarked. Then, of course, someone near the back of the room stood up.

"Seconded." Melanie, the representative of the Ilian League, spoke. She spoke softly and without any inflection or hint of emotion. It unnerved Austin.

Coronam shifted in his seat. "The floor is opened."

At once, Generic stood up and pointed an accusing finger at the Arkosian delegation. "You are on my land," she said. "Get off. It is that simple."

"It is not so simple," Bluewhale replied. "Though I would not expect you to understand that."

"Oh?" Generic responded. "Then do tell, what is the complication? Because this seems to be a very cut-and-dry example of your imperialism."

"Please calm yourselves," Nitesco said. His voice was calm, but commanding. Bluewhale and Generic paused momentarily. "We can sort this out without need for personal insults. Bluewhale, please tell us why you continue to occupy Lancastrian territory."

"We occupied it during the war with the Church," Bluewhale said. "It was a wartime acquisition. It will be treated that way." He crossed his arms as if that explained everything.

"You know that was not the question," Austin said. Bluewhale's expression soured.

"It is for the security of my people," Bluewhale said. "The west and south are protected by the seas and the inlet. The north is protected by the mountains. But the east is vulnerable. My nation is tired; the effects of war are still felt. We must secure our borders against any who would threaten us."

"Then secure your borders on your own land!" Generic exclaimed. "That land is Lancastrian. It is tilled by Lancastrian farmers. It is defended by Lancastrian soldiers. They pay taxes to the Lancastrian government. And, as such, it is Lancaster's!"

"The land is Lancaster's by right," Mei interjected. "Arkos has no right to rule over those people."

"There are Arkosians there now," Bluewhale retorted. "Soldiers and their families, come to settle."

"They are occupiers!" Generic yelled. The shouting escalated. More and more representatives started standing to offer their opinions until the entire hall was filled with cacophonous bellowing. Austin remained silent, observing the chaos and rehearsing her response. She stole a glance at Nitesco, who was also standing in silence, looking on at the crowds in disapproval.

"If I had known it would be like this," Futtle muttered, "I would've stayed home."

Ausum snickered. "If I had known it would be like this, I would've been more eager to come."

Coronam started banging his gavel, and it was enough to calm the assembly into low chatter. As Coronam took a seat, looking very pale, Alfonse stood up to address them in his stead.

"Please," he said. "Do not act in such a manner. We can solve this issue in a civilized way. This can be solved through diplomacy, I promise you!"

"Not with these barbarians," Generic said. "I would be surprised if they could even spell diplomacy."

"Are you running out of insults?" Bluewhale asked.

"Believe me when I say I'm not," Generic said.

"Enough," Austin said. "There will be no more of this hostility. I will not let us fall into another war."

"Who said anything about war?" Taco interjected.

"Do not insult my intelligence," Austin said. "I think we all know what could happen if we allow this to get out of hand. Our work here will not be finished until Lancaster and Arkos reach some sort of agreement."

A hush fell over the assembly, and all eyes turned to the two belligerents. Bluewhale and Generic exchanged hostile glances. "Okay," Generic said, breaking the silence. "I'll bite. I've an idea for a compromise."

"It had best not include a cession of my land," Bluewhale said.

"No, it does not," Generic said. She wore a conniving smile that made Austin uncomfortable. "But the fact of the matter remains that you are forcing my people off my land. I must quarter them somewhere, but on their ancestral lands are not an option anymore."

Bluewhale scoffed and crossed his arms. "Quit the passive-aggressiveness and get to the point," he said.

"Well, I must resettle my people somewhere," Generic said. "Preferably somewhere with a large garrison of my soldiers already."

"What are you saying?" Blaze asked, his cocky facade having slipped.

Generic smiled. "I say that King Inferno should hand over the Kingdom of Pollination to Lancaster."

The tension in the chamber, by some miracle, did not boil over. Instead, the assembly was shocked into silence. Austin looked around the chamber. She locked eyes with Nitesco, who shared a concerned look with her. Amelia gasped and clutched at her chest, Inferno choked at suddenly being drawn into the spotlight, and Bluewhale's face went totally blank. Even the usually inscrutable Sphinx looked surprised, while his grandson looked on with expectant curiosity.

Mei was the first to speak. "Holy shit," he muttered. Various nodded along with him.

"The entire kingdom?" Nitesco asked.

"Yes," Generic responded, with forced calmness. "You see, the last Inferno decimated her troops on her power play. Most of my soldiers quartered in Pollination. They live among their people; they defend them and enforce their laws. Handing over the kingdom itself would be a relatively minor change, all things considered."

"Holy shit," Mei said again.

Horsea cleared his throat and spoke for the first time that day. "Perhaps we're escalating things a bit too quickly."

"Why?" Generic asked. She shot him a look that was a combination of confusion and discontent. "I think this is a reasonable demand, all things considered."

"Reasonable?!" Bluewhale exclaimed. "How is it reasonable? How is it fair? That land belongs to Inferno, not you! This is such a blatant power grab! I will not countenance it!"

Off to the side, Coronam weakly banged his gavel. Nobody listened.

"Well, why shouldn't I take it?" Generic asked. "Legally, what are the problems?"

"What happened to all the objections you had earlier?" Bluewhale asked. "Legal rights? The people living there? Aren't you beholden to your own rules?"

"So now you have a problem with occupying someone else's land?" Generic asked. Her smile was far beyond smug, and it only got wider as Bluewhale turned a unique shade of red.

"So you admit what you would be doing is an occupation?" Nitesco asked.

"Order!" Coronam gasped. Only Alfonse noticed.

"Of course," Generic said. "Why should I pretend otherwise? It's not like any of you seemed to have a problem with what the most illustrious Admiral—"

"Grand General," Vaniellis corrected her.

Generic pursed her lips. "Whatever. Point is, if you agree to allow Bluewhale's occupation to continue, then I shall see my claim to Pollination as justified for the same reasons. It is the precedent you will have chosen to set."

"And if Arkos relinquishes the borderlands?" Austin asked.

"Then I too shall relinquish my claim to Pollination," Generic said. "The decision is up to Bluewhale."

"It most definitely is not!" Inferno exclaimed. "I am a ruler too! I will not have my sovereign lands be used as a gambling chip!"

"This is out of your hands," Taco scolded.

"No, it is not!" Inferno yelled. He stamped his foot. "I will not allow it. If you try to take my land, I will respond in kind."

Generic's smug smile dimmed. "Are you threatening me, boy?" she asked.

"Generic," Amelia said. "What are you doing?"

Generic did not flinch as she turned Amelia's way. "What I must," she responded.

"Order!" Coronam wheezed, finally loud enough for others to hear. "Enough of this! It is getting out of hand!"

"Perhaps we should behave more civilly," Mei said, "But the Lancastrians have a legitimate grievance. Inferno, I think we should—"

"Shut up!" Inferno yelled. "I won't be treated like this! Like a pawn!"

"This is unnecessary!" Nitesco said. "Please. Dragging us all to the brink of war does nobody any good. Please, let diplomacy prevail!"

"I am trying," Bluewhale said. "The Lancastrians will not let me."

"You both know what you're doing, damn it!" Austin exclaimed. "Do you really want to go back to war so badly?"

Bluewhale and Generic looked at her with a mix of suspicion and indignation. "Are you accusing us?" Vaniellis spoke up.

"No," Austin said. "I only think the peace is being endangered rather frivolously."

"Good god, you're all such pompous brats!" Blaze exclaimed. "The only people in here I can stand are Coronam's kid and Various."

"Hell, I'll take it," Various said. Mei shot him an irritated look.

"We're talking about war, here," Blaze said. "Thousands dying, lives uprooted, death and suffering, all that. And you people are treating it like a game! Waxing poetic about peace and rights and shit and not doing anything to make it so but talk! What is wrong with you?"

The assembly fell into silence. Behind Austin, Ausum made a sound of agreement. "I like him," he said.

"Perhaps Blaze has a point," Hozack said. "We are treating this matter too lightly. I say we adjourn for the day and reconvene tomorrow, when we are well-rested and calmer."

"So moved," Blaze said.

"Seconded," Amelia said.

Before Coronam could even ask for a vote, most of the assembly raised their hands in assent. Coronam swallowed.

"Very well," he said. "We are adjourned." A swing of the gavel ended the Diet for the day.

* * *

Blaze wandered about the kitchen, snagging loaves of bread from the platters and nabbing a bottle of wine. Coronam had decided to provide the diplomats a large feast, but instead of it being a lively occasion, all of the dining halls were almost completely silent. Most of the delegations kept to themselves or whispered quietly with close allies. Blaze decided that sitting with the other Freezerburner diplomats wasn't going to work for him and elected to take his dinner back up to his room.

"Fuckin' hell," Blaze muttered to himself as he climbed up the stairs. His room was up on the third floor of the guest houses, and his only neighbor was a scary-looking foreigner. But at least he had his privacy.

As he arrived on the landing of the third floor, he heard people talking. Strange. He didn't think anyone else would've skipped out on dinner.

"—confrontation. Perfect," one said. A male. He sounded familiar.

"There's still work to do," a woman said. Her voice sounded muffled somehow. "Come now. Sphinx and Yarg are already inside."

Blaze looked around the corner. Hozack, the one from Monochrome if he remembered correctly, was holding the door open for his bodyguard. As she turned to walk inside, she took off her helmet and—

Anti?

Hozack closed the door behind them, oblivious to Blaze's observation. Anti, Blaze thought. She was there when his father was killed. She was a known war criminal. And now she was here, within walking or stabbing distance of dozens of heads of state. Despite his trepidation, he set his meal on a nearby table and inched closer and closer to the door until he was close enough to press his ear against the keyhole.

"—to war? This is a good start, but it is by no means a guarantee." A man with a thick accent was speaking. Blaze's next-door neighbor. Just his luck, Blaze though.

"There is no need to fear," a raspy voice said. That was definitely Sphinx. "Coronam is incapacitated, and will be for a few days more. That is enough to guide the assembly towards conflict."

"Of course, we might not even need to guide them," Hozack said. "They were practically at each other's throats with nary a word from us."

"They seem to be scheming well enough without us," Yarg affirmed. "But we always have the advantage. As long as we do not overplay our hand, we will be safe."

"There is still the matter of Austin and Nitesco," Anti said. "Even with Coronam incapacitated, they possess great political power and conviction to match."

"It will not be hard to discredit them as powermongers or incompetents," Sphinx said. A raspy cough. "All we need to do is give our esteemed fellows a little push here and there and they should fight the battle for us."

"Peters will be arriving with a list of possible allies shortly," Hozack said. "He'll advise us on where to turn our attention next."

Blaze leaned away from the keyhole, his curiosity sated. Now, though, he was left with a feeling of dread. Who would he turn to about this? How would they counteract this? A thousand questions swirled in his head—

A hand clamped around his mouth, and two more clamped around each of his arms. Blaze began flailing around in fear, trying to get a good look at his attackers. On his left was Hozack's hanger-on, Peters. On his right was Melanie, who was deceptively strong for her size.

"Having a little listen, were we?" Peters asked. He had a sadistic trill in his voice that Blaze did not like.

"Shouldn't have done that," was all Melanie had to say. With her free hand, she knocked on the chamber door. Yarg opened it and looked on with surprise.

"What the hell is this?" he asked.

"Caught him listening through the keyhole," Peters said. Yarg scowled and turned inside to Hozack and Anti.

"Didn't I tell you guys to be more observant?" he said. He waved Peters and Melanie inside. They obeyed, dragging Blaze, still struggling, behind them.

As soon as they were inside, Yarg hurriedly shut the door behind them. Anti, Sphinx, and Hozack all looked at Blaze with something like disappointment in their eyes.

"I can't believe of all the people to catch on it was the drunkard," Hozack said. Blaze would've retorted if Peters's hand wasn't still clasped over his mouth.

"Yes, I'm very concerned about your bruised pride," Melanie said, "and not the breathing security breach we have here."

"She has a point," Anti said. "What is to be done with him?"

"He could be an asset," Yarg suggested.

"Not under duress," Peters said. "We'll likely have to kill him."

Blaze thrashed harder, but to no avail. "Grandfather," Hozack said. "What is your opinion?"

Sphinx leaned on his cane and scrunched his face, thinking. "Remember earlier," he said to Hozack, "when I said that we would have to stretch out the proceedings to lead to war?"

Hozack nodded. Peters's hand clenched over Blaze's face.

"Now," Sphinx said, "we have an opportunity to end the Diet on a sour note. An, ahem, "accidental" death will cause suspicion and tension. Without Coronam to resolve it, then it is very likely that the Diet will end tonight."

"What good fortune," Peters said. "Nobody will question the drunkard falling off his balcony. Your room is nearby, yes?"

Melanie reached into Blaze's pocket and retrieved his room key. She took a look at the number on it.

"Looks like it's just next door," she said. Hozack nodded.

"Excellent. I'll go on ahead and unlock his room. Yarg, Anti, stand guard in the hall. Let's make this quick." He left the room, with Anti and Yarg in tow. A few moments later, he called for Peters and Melanie to begin moving Blaze.

As Peters and Melanie dragged Blaze to his room, he continued struggling. They were both stronger than he was, but he had to try. No matter how hard he thrashed, though, their grip on him remained as tight as a vise.

As they turned into his room, Blaze saw Hozack whittling away at the railings of his balcony. As he finished, he pocketed his dagger and turned to Blaze.

"Ah, don't mind me," he said. "It just looks more authentic this way. More like an accident. I'm sure the footnotes of history books will tell of how Prince Blaze, in a drunken stupor, fell off his balcony. Oh, that reminds me!" He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from Blaze's liquor cabinet and tossed it off the balcony.

"Another little detail," Hozack said. He leaned down in front of Blaze and nodded. For the first time, he seemed almost a little bit sad. "Don't worry, my friend," he said. "It should be painless. I don't relish this, but it has to be done. Rest assured that your death will serve the common good."

As Hozack walked away, Peters knocked Blaze in the throat. Blaze felt his breath leave his body, and he started gasping for air.

"To make sure you don't scream on the way down," Peters said. He and Melanie started dragging Blaze over to the balcony. He no longer had the strength to resist.

"You were close," Melanie said. "I'll credit you that much. But close only counts in horseshoes. Peters?"

Peters nodded. With a final heave of effort, they pushed Blaze towards the cracked railing. He fell forward, feeling the railing collapse in front of him and the air rush up around him. He tried to scream, but all he got off was a gasp before the ground rushed up to meet him.

* * *

Ausum sighed and tried to light his pipe. It had taken a fair bit of sneaking to get his hands on good tobacco, and even more quick thinking to sneak it out of Coronam's storeroom. Now, as he sat on a bench outside the hall, he couldn't manage to light the pipe.

"Damn," Ausum said. He set the pipe in his lap and sighed. "What a letdown." He let his head lay back on the edge of the bench he was sitting on.

At once, he heard a strange whittling sound. He set his pipe down on the bench and looked up. On a balcony overhead, a man was crouching and cutting away at the supports of a balcony railing. Ausum stood up and squinted to get a closer look, but he couldn't see the man's face. The man ducked back inside.

Ausum furrowed his brow. If that was an assassination attempt, then he'd just go and tell Austin what was going on. Nobody was in their rooms right now (except the railing-whittler) so they would have plenty of time to investigate.

Ausum bent down to pick up his pipe, and he heard a crashing sound. Ausum glanced at the ground. A bottle laid there, broken on the ground. Why, Ausum wondered, would someone do that? He shoved the pipe in his pocket and turned to return to the hall.

That was when he heard a cracking noise. He whirled around just in time to see Prince Blaze plummet from the third story and land on the ground with a sickening crunch. There was no question that he was dead on the spot.

"Fuck," Ausum said. He ran back to Coronam's private dining hall.

As he sprinted through the doors into the hall, almost everyone there turned from their meals to Ausum. Only then did he realize how quiet it had been before he had arrived.

Prince Alfonse, sitting in his father's seat at the head of the table, turned to Ausum. "What is the problem?" he asked. Ausum caught Austin looking at him, concerned. Nitesco, next to her, looked more confused, but both clearly wanted to hear what he had to say.

"Prince Blaze," he said. "He has fallen from his balcony. I believe he is dead."

At once, the entire hall erupted into chatter. Each diplomat rose from their seat and followed Ausum out to the scene. The onlookers formed a circle around Blaze's still-fresh corpse. Everybody chattered with questions until Prince Alfonse managed to weasel through the crowd. His presence was enough to return silence.

"What happened here?" Alfonse asked.

Austin appeared next to Ausum and pointed up. "The balcony railing," she said. "It's broken."

"Broken brandy glass on the ground," Bluewhale said. He wrinkled his nose. "Damn. Probably got too drunk and fell."

"I don't think so," Ausum said. "Right before it happened, I saw a man up on the balcony whittling at the railings. I think—I think Blaze was murdered."

The crowd gasped. Generic stepped forward. "Why didn't you say something?" she asked. "Why didn't you come get the guards?"

"I was about to," Ausum said. "It happened so quickly. There was only about a minute between the man whittling the railing and the prince going off the balcony."

"So that means whoever did this wanted it to look like an accident," Nitesco said. He stroked his chin. "But why? Why Blaze?"

"What's going on here?" a voice said. Ausum turned. Hozack, along with Melanie and a few others were walking up to the scene. Why were they late, Ausum wondered? He also noted that Hozack looked similar to the man up on the balcony earlier. His eyes narrowed.

"Where were you?" Ausum asked. He heard Austin make a sound of disapproval at his audacity, but he didn't much care.

"I was with my grandfather," Hozack said. "He was feeling ill, so we left dinner early."

"I was in the lavatory when I heard the commotion," Melanie said. "I heard a servant say something, so I grabbed a few others, Hozack included. Does anyone know what happened?"

"We think Blaze may have been murdered," Alfonse said. "Austin's bodyguard said he saw a man whittling the balcony railings before Blaze fell."

Hozack's face twitched. Ausum recognized the look on Hozack's face as one of guilt. But when he saw the look that his bodyguard (Peter, was it?) was giving him, an instinctive sense of fear urged to stay silent.

"Well, then," Hozack said. "Why don't we call Coronam to figure this out?"

Alfonse hesitated. "My father is very ill," he muttered.

"So?" Generic asked. "Who cares? This is more important."

"He ordered nobody to disturb him," Alfonse said weakly.

"Oh, that's spectacular," Bluewhale said. "The presider of the Diet gets sick just as one of the diplomats is murdered? Good god! How is that acceptable?"

"Please," Nitesco said. "Calm down. Someone else—"

"I think the time for calm has passed," Generic said. "Today, I've been lectured up and down for wanting to recoup my losses from this imperialist!" She jabbed a finger at Bluewhale. "Now what? A diplomat is murdered? Coronam was supposed to keep order, but clearly he is incapable of doing so!"

"We can come to a consensus tomorrow," Austin said.

"The time for that has passed," Bluewhale said. "This is our affair to sort out. Coronam has shown us that he is incapable of managing this, and the rest of you have no authority to pass judgement on us."

"For once, I agree," Generic said. She straightened her uniform. "Tomorrow, my diplomats and I will leave the Diet. I will not consent to let foreigners decide what is best for me."

"And I as well," Bluewhale said. "I will return to Arkos tomorrow morning. As far as I am concerned, this Diet is over."

Several of the diplomats murmured in agreement, while other resignedly walked back to the hall or their rooms. Ausum managed to catch a ghost of a smile on Hozack's face before he turned around and left with his posse.

"That's Hozack, right?" Ausum asked.

"Him?" Austin asked. "Yes. Why?"

Ausum paused. Hozack was a powerful man with many connections and spies, if the stories Futtle told him were true. Futtle was prone to exaggeration, true, but he was still probably a powerful man. If he was right, or even if he was wrong about his suspicions, drawing attention to himself could be extremely dangerous. And the look his agent Peters gave him certainly didn't soothe his nerves.

"Curiosity," Ausum said. Austin nodded and returned her attention to Blaze.

Soon, it was just Ausum and Austin there. Austin was still staring down at Blaze's body.

"Of course," she said. "The last Diet went sour at about the same time. I should've known something like this would've happened. But so violently…" She trailed off. "Ausum, pack your bags. We're leaving tomorrow morning."

"So soon?" he asked. Austin nodded.

"Of course," she said. "We need to stop a war."


	15. Chapter 15

**June 11, 13 ATC**

**Capitol Citadel, City of Immolata, Province of Lesser Arkos, Oligarchy of Arkos**

"With the highlands secured, we can then move down into the central lands," Vaniellis said. "From there, all we will have to do is prevent escape via the river cities and our victory will be complete within a year."

Bluewhale and Strike nodded. "With a naval blockade, we can encircle and prevent supplies from getting through," Bluewhale said. "Their river navy is nothing compared to ours."

Strike nodded. "Our defenses are strong enough in the border territories that any counterattack they could muster would be unlikely to succeed," he said.

"Do we have specific campaign plans?" Bluewhale asked. "Land strategy is not my speciality."

"I have briefed the strategic committee," Strike said. "Vaniellis and I will meet with them later to discuss specifics."

"My forces will strike at the capital first," Vaniellis said. "From there, resistance will be fragmented. I do not expect any terribly long campaigns."

"Then our strength will be conserved?" Bluewhale asked.

"Even if we do take heavy losses, we will have plenty of men in reserve," Strike said. "The academy reopenings have been very successful. Conscription is also an option if necessary."

"I do not think it will come to that," Bluewhale said. "Vaniellis, begin marshalling the soldiers at the beginning of next week. I will ride to Port Phalanx and ready the fleet there. Strike, keep order in the government while I am away."

"Yes sir," they both said.

Bluewhale nodded. "Good. I must meet with my intelligencers. You are dismissed."

Vaniellis and Strike nodded and left. As Vaniellis closed the door behind them, he sighed.

"Something wrong?" Strike asked. Vaniellis did not appreciate the trill of hostility in his voice.

"Not particularly," Vaniellis said. "Just the anxiety of war, I suppose."

Strike chuckled. "You are still young," he said. "I suppose it is to be expected."

"Perhaps not anxiety for war in itself," Vaniellis said. "Perhaps we are going into this war to eagerly?"

Strike glanced at him. "If you have something to say, say it."

"I think that this war could be disastrous if we mishandle it," Vaniellis said. "I think that we are too readily going in."

"Well, what other option do we have?" Strike asked. "It's not like Generic gave us much of a choice."

"It's not like we tried diplomacy," Vaniellis said. "I gave Bluewhale support when he needed it, but I'll be 100% honest that we didn't much try."

"I'm sure he has his reasons," Strike said. "I mean, can we trust Generic? You yourself saw how duplicitous she can be."

Vaniellis lifted his hand to his chin. "I suppose I never considered that," he said. "But still, we are heading very rapidly towards what could be a bloody war."

"Don't tell me you have a bleeding heart for Lancaster," Strike said.

Vaniellis grumbled. "No," he said. "I'm scared for Arkos. We are projecting strength, yes, but perhaps we should be more cautious. Despite what Bluewhale said, we are still recovering. If we win this war, yes, nobody will question it, but if we lose, or if something happened to Bluewhale, this could all fall apart." He sighed. "I'll follow my orders because I am a good soldier. And I'll do my very best to defeat the Lancastrian armies. But I can't help but fear for what will happen if we make a mistake. Or, perhaps, if we've already made one."

Strike nodded understandingly. "I think I understand now," he said. "At first I thought this was a problem with your resolve. But if you're scared for Arkos, then I can hardly blame you.

"Still," Strike continued, "you must steel yourself. If there's anything I've learned from my years in Arkos, the Church, and in prison, it's that some battles are unavoidable. And if a battle is unavoidable, we gain nothing from not fighting. This confrontation was inevitable. If it wasn't over the border lands, it would've been over something else. This way, we can fight on our terms, and because of that, we have the advantage."

Vaniellis nodded. "I suppose you're right. But that's enough philosophy for today." He clapped Strike on the shoulder. "Come on. The strategy committee is waiting."

"After you," Strike said. As Vaniellis walked, Strike's words echoed in his head. And yet, he could still feel the gnawing of doubt.

Bluewhale drummed his fingers on the table, still looking at the map. True, the Lancastrians were at a disadvantage, both in positioning and in numbers. But for all his confidence, the lands behind the new border were not well-garrisoned. If anything went wrong, Lancastrian forces could push through and wreak havoc on the heartlands.

Bluewhale heard the door open. He expected that Strike or Vaniellis had returned for some reason. He was surprised, then, to see Peters standing there.

"How did you get in here?" Bluewhale asked.

"Trade secret," Peters said. "Relax. My liege said he would provide aid, and that is exactly what he is doing. I am here to provide intelligence."

"Intelligence?" Bluewhale asked. "What kind of intelligence? Battlefield?"

"If you require that of my associates," Peters said. "Lancaster is a threat to all of us. Generic in particular needs to be knocked down a peg, or just bumped off in general. So, to that end, I offer you my services." He gave a bow, and Bluewhale couldn't help but feel like he was being mocked.

"Very well," Bluewhale said. "I may need your services. But you will not be going out onto the battlefield."

"No?" Peters said. He sounded confused.

Bluewhale nodded. "Military intelligence is better suited for these tasks than skullduggers. No offense," he added.

"None taken," Peters said. "But if my spies won't be used for the military, what will they be used for?"

"Internal security," Bluewhale said. "Well, in a way. I'm placing Strike in charge of general management while I'm gone, but I am still aware that there are factions and dissenters outside of my and his view."

"And then what if we find them?" Peters asked. "Eliminate them? Or just threaten them?"

"No," Bluewhale said. "Good god, you're eager to use violence."

"Force of habit," Peters said. "Like you said, 'skullduggers' aren't usually used for passive purposes."

"Well, this time you are," Bluewhale said. "I want you to make a list of dissenters. And before you ask, no, I am not going to murder or threaten them. I am just going to see if they are still willing to follow orders, or if I'd be able to convince them of my good intentions."

"You'd tolerate dissenters?" Peters sounded both confused and condescending. Bluewhale felt a little insulted.

"Yes, I would," he said. "I have no problem with having differences with my officers, so long as those officers do not act seditiously. If they do not compromise our efficiency or our security, I am willing to countenance them."

"Countenance," Peters said. "That's a tenpenny word."

"I learned it from Austin," Bluewhale said. "Now, if there's nothing else—"

"Where will you be heading?" Peters asked. "In case I have something urgent to report."

Bluewhale pursed his lips. "The city of Xiphos," he said. "I'll be there marshalling the navy, but not for long."

"Understood," Peters said. "I will keep you no longer. Safe travels."

"And to you," Bluewhale said. He rolled up the map on the table and took it with him as he left.

"Xiphos, huh?" Peters said aloud. He removed a sliver of paper and wrote Bluewhale's destination on it before exiting for the aviary.

On his way there, Peters made sure to keep to the shadows and avoided all the guards he had not bribed or explained his presence to earlier. Once he reached the aviary, he looked around, trying to spot the bird Yarg had told him to use.

"Ah, there you are," Peters said aloud. He spotted the only crow in a room full of pigeons and ravens. He scooped the bird into his arms and tied the message around its foot before letting it fly out the window. If Yarg was correct, it would arrive at his safehouse in Lancaster within a few days.

"All in a day's work," he muttered to himself. As Peters left the aviary, he did not notice the man, disguised in servant's garb, watching him from afar.

* * *

**June 14, 13 ATC**

**Giuseppe Manor, State of Marionetta, Margraviate of Nuts and Dolts**

The sun was high in the sky as Generic and her two companions walked the path up to Margrave Mei's manor. Generic smiled. Not only did Nuts and Dolts have good hospitality, it had beautiful weather as well.

"To think that this was across the inlet the whole time and I never visited," Generic said. "What about you, Venom? You like it here?"

Admiral Venom Ahab made an affirmative noise as he lit his pipe. "It's nice," he said, puffing on the pipe. "I'll like it a lot more when we see the docks with our ships in them." He tossed his match aside and continued smoking.

Generic turned to the other. "Spiderplant?" she asked.

"Lovely place," he said. "I hope the Margrave is hospitable."

"Oh, he will be," Generic said. "We sink or swim together. If I know him, he'll at least be polite about it."

The manor watchmen caught sight of the three of them and rode down to greet them. The captain of the guard stopped them in the middle of the road and dismounted.

"State your name and business," the captain said.

"General Generic and company," Generic said. "The Margrave has invited us here."

The captain looked over to the guard with the guest ledger in her hand. She nodded at the captain.

"Looks like you're on the list," the captain said. He climbed back on his horse. "Please, follow me."

"Generic and company?" Venom said. He chuckled. "Is that what we are? The side bitches?"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," Generic said. "And keep your mouth clean. Just because they're our allies doesn't mean we get to behave with indignity."

"Of course, your honor." Venom took his pipe out of his mouth and gave a theatrical bow. Generic rolled her eyes.

"Is security always so tight here?" Spiderplant asked.

"Tight?" the captain said. "It's fairly relaxed, given the circumstances. Not a hop across the pond from a nation that'd love to see you conquered again, and with a whole navy right under their nose too."

"You know about the navy?" Generic asked.

"Somebody's got to guard and build it," the captain said. "There's plenty of people who know, but travel to and from the area is strictly prohibited. The Margrave told everyone there was an outbreak of plague there."

"Where have I heard that one before?" Spiderplant wondered aloud.

"Besides, you can see the shipyard from the manor's balcony," the captain continued. "But don't worry. The information is secure. Nobody will realize until it's too late."

They arrived at the manor gate, and the captain dismounted to unlock it. "The Margrave welcomes you," he said.

"Thank you," Spiderplant said. Generic and Venom said nothing as they walked towards the manor. As soon as the captain was out of earshot, Generic sighed.

"The Margrave's been a little freer with the information than I would have liked," she said.

"The captain had a point," Venom said. "You can't build a navy without workers or guards. And if he's got the area around it on lockdown, well, all the better."

"Perhaps," Generic said. "But you can't be too paranoid in wartime."

"Doesn't mean you have to be paranoid," Venom said. He puffed on his pipe.

"Technically we aren't at war yet anyway," Spiderplant added. "Arkos won't attack until we make the first move."

"They wouldn't want to surrender the moral high ground," Venom said. He spat on the ground.

"Pity, that," Generic said. "But it matters little, because it gives us the initiative. That's their mistake."

As they approached the manor entrance, the doors swung open. Mei, flanked by two soldiers, came out to greet them.

"Ah, Generic," he said. "And her pleasant company."

"There we go again," Venom said. Spiderplant shushed him.

"Margrave," Generic said. "How far along is everything?"

"Nearly finished," Mei said. "But we should discuss this inside. Let's not keep the others waiting."

"The others?" Generic asked.

"Horsea is here," Mei said. "And another asset of mine that has some very, ah, sensitive information." He walked inside, gesturing for her to follow.

Generic walked in after Mei, with Spiderplant and Venom close behind. Venom scratched at his salt-and-pepper beard and whispered to Generic, "Do you think he's being a little too open with things?"

"Maybe," Generic said. "Maybe not. But if we move quickly, it shouldn't matter."

"It's been a long time since I've been to a secret military meeting," Spiderplant said. Generic smirked.

"God willing, it will be the last time," Generic said. "And you can retire far away from all this."

"Before we bask in our glory?" Spiderplant asked. He shook his head. "Not a chance."

"Good man," Generic said. Mei opened the door to the conference room, and the three walked inside. Already seated was Horsea, puzzling over paperwork, and another man. The man was bald and wore foreign clothing, but Generic could see there was something else at work with him.

"Be seated," Mei commanded. As the Lancastrians obliged, he shut the door behind them.

"Horsea," Generic said. "It's been some time."

"Only since the Diet," Horsea said. "But then again, there wasn't talking so much as yelling."

"Is everything in order?" Mei asked, gesturing to Horsea's ledgers. He nodded.

"I had to take out a few small loans from the Moogle bank to finance some of this," Horsea admitted. Generic thought she saw a predatory glint in the foreigner's eye when Horsea said that.

"Who's the new guy?" Generic asked.

"This is Yargama Frag," Mei said. "Leader of the Transporter's Guild and a friend of my family."

"A pleasure, my lady," Yargama said. "Please, call me Yarg."

"Mei," Generic said. Her voice was soft, yet tense. "You hired a smuggler? Why?"

"The Transporter's Guild has been an ally of Nuts and Dolts since the Third Shipping War," Mei said. "They have a reputation for, ah, discretion. I have never known one of them to betray the secrecy of their contracts."

"He's a foreigner," Venom said. Yarg looked chagrined.

"Yes, I am not from the lowlands," Yarg said. "Or as you call it, the caldera, which is rather inaccurate, geologically speaking."

"Yarg is a good ally," Mei said. "He has acquired materials that Horsea could not supply us: exotic hardwoods and metals to make our fleet stronger and deadlier. Without him, we would still be behind schedule."

"And," Yarg said, "I have come across another valuable piece of information, which the Margrave and the President have so graciously compensated me for."

"Was it worth the price?" Spiderplant asked.

"I wasn't footing the whole bill, so you tell me," Horsea said. He looked up at Mei, who seemed uncharacteristically eager.

"It was worth every coin," Mei said. "We found out where the Arkosians are marshalling most of their navy." He paused dramatically. "The city of Xiphos."

"That's good," Generic said. "But not spectacular."

"Patience," Yarg said. "I also found out that Bluewhale himself will be there to lead the navy. You can kill a whole flock of birds with one stone."

"That is interesting news," Venom said. He gnawed at the end of his pipe, nodding with approval.

"Well, perhaps I misjudged your usefulness," Generic said. "My apologies, Yarg."

"No apologies needed," Yarg said. "I get it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment and I must get back to town. Good day."

"Goodbye," Horsea said as Yarg walked out. As Yarg closed the door behind him, Horsea sighed. "Now, onto military matters?"

"Yes indeed," Mei said. "I believe you have a plan for your forces already, Generic?"

"The battle plans are drawn and readied," Generic said. "Our commanders in Lancaster will hold the line at the border, but they won't attack. All they need to do is wait while my forces strike at the Arkosians in their docks and invade from the sea. Venom will blockade their ports while my soldiers sweep through the heartlands. They'll never see it coming."

"And if Arkos attacks first?" Horsea asked. "What then?"

"We are confident they will not," Spiderplant said. "They want us to appear as the aggressors."

"We are the aggressors," Venom said. "But there are enough who dislike Arkos that we can count on very little interference in this war."

"And what is your plan?" Generic asked.

"While you attack from the ocean," Mei said. "I will lead my forces, and any mercenaries that Horsea contracts, over the inlet. We will land within striking distance of many major cities, and if we can coordinate our efforts, we can take their capital within a few months."

"A wise course of action," Generic said. "Do you plan to lead the men yourself?"

"My talents are not in combat," Mei said. "But having one of your commanders amongst our forces would make things easier."

"Fair enough," Generic said. "Spiderplant, would you mind staying behind and counselling Mei's commanders?"

"Of course not," he said.

"Very good," Generic said. "And Horsea? What will you be doing?"

"Pretending to have no involvement in these affairs," Horsea said.

Venom snickered. "I like this one. He's honest."

Generic and Horsea smiled at the irony. "So it seems," Generic said.

"A question," Horsea said. "What happens if others do find out about what we've done here?"

"Like who?" Mei asked.

Horsea shrugged. "Coronam, perhaps. Or Austin and Nitesco."

Spiderplant clicked his tongue. "He has a point. They are very nosy, and very powerful."

"Really?" Venom asked. "Austin's missing an eye, and Nitesco a leg. Even if they saw us, do you think they could catch up?" He laughed at his own joke.

"Oh, perhaps they'd be a nuisance," Generic said. "But I doubt they'd get involved. Too little reward and too much risk."

"They might intervene on principle," Horsea said.

"Let them," Generic replied. "If they don't discover it until our plan is in action, it's too late for them to stop it. And I trust you, Mei, are keeping this information top secret?"

"With all my resources," he said.

"Then we have nothing to fear." Generic put her hands on the table and smiled. "Now, I was told that you can see the shipyards from here?"

"Yes, out in the yard," Mei said.

"Excellent," Generic said. "You two, I'll be back in a moment. Check Horsea's ledgers to see how much we owe Mei for renting the ships." She ignored Venom's grumblings about wanting to see the new ships.

Generic and Mei exited the room and made their way out into the yard. Mei smiled as he walked outside and into the gardens. He stretched his arms up to the sky.

"It's a beautiful summer," he said. "The harvest will be plentiful. Great weather for sailing too."

"It is indeed," Generic said. As she looked around, she spotted Various, of all people, having his portrait painted in the garden. "Various?"

Various turned around, much to the frustration of the painter. "Generic?" he said. "What's this about?"

"Just a diplomatic meeting." Mei said. "Now hold still. If we're going to use you for statues, we want it to look good, hear?"

"I hear," Various said. He cast another suspicious glance at Generic before resuming his pose.

"What's that about?" Generic asked.

"Propaganda," Mei said. "We want high enlistment, but that depends on national spirit. And what better way to raise spirit than to celebrate a war hero?"

"Good idea," Generic said. "Hopefully, the enlistees never meet their hero in person."

"Oh, he isn't that much of a problem," Mei said. "Now, we're here. Take a look."

Generic could see through the trees, down into a large port. In the docks were dozens of ships, ranging from small schooners to frigates that could rival the Arkosian navy's. But there, in the center, was a dreadnought large enough to sink a man o' war with a single volley.

"What's that one called?" Generic asked. Mei followed her gaze to the dreadnought.

"The _Kraken_," he said. "Named after the legendary beast that can swallow whales whole."

Generic snickered. "Nice touch on the name there."

"I thought you'd appreciate it," Mei said. "There's still a bit of work to be done, but the fleet is almost ready. Is it to your satisfaction?"

"Yes," Generic said. "It's everything I wanted and more."

* * *

**July 22, 13 ATC**

**Fortuna Castle, Duchy of Karma**

"Meetings, meetings, ever more meetings," Austin said. "At least this time we have a nice view."

"At least this time we'll be able to get something done," Nitesco said. "I'm sick to my stomach with diplomatic summits."

Austin murmured in agreement. For months after the Diet, she and Nitesco had tried to host negotiations between Lancaster and Arkos, but had seen no success. When diplomats from one country came, the others would not be there, if they even responded to the summons at all. Whatever had stopped Lancaster and Arkos from tearing each other apart over the last few months, it wasn't them.

Quail, who was perched on an open windowsill, squawked impatiently.

"I know, Quail, I know," Austin cooed. She turned back to Nitesco. "Taco is certainly taking his time."

"When did you become so impatient?" Nitesco asked.

"When the peace we fought for over three years was dismantled in a few hours," Austin said.

Nitesco sighed. "I see your point," he said. "But if the Mask asked us to come all the way out here in a time like this, it must be important."

"What did his message say exactly?" Austin asked.

"Exactly?" Nitesco stroked his chin. "Couldn't tell you exactly, but he told us that he had urgent news from Various and that we would need to come here to hear it."

Austin sighed. "I guess we'll find out soon."

At that, the door to the chamber opened. Lord Taco and his cousin Lewdnep entered, taking their seats at the opposite end of the table. Taco nodded in greeting to Austin and Nitesco. Lewdnep kicked her feet up on the table and closed her eyes.

"Good day," Nitesco said. "Is the Mask on his way?"

"Indeed," Taco said. "He should be—"

"Right here," the Mask said, hurrying in through the door. "Sorry about the late arrival. I had a few things to attend to."

"It's no trouble," Austin said. "But I would like to dispense with the formalities and get straight to the point here."

"The Mask found out how Generic's going to attack Arkos," Lewdnep said. Taco furrowed his brow.

"Well, a little leadup would've been nice," Taco said.

"What?" Lewdnep asked. She lifted her hands as if surrendering. "She said no formalities!"

"In any case, she's right," the Mask said. "I received a very interesting letter from Various not long ago. Here." He retrieved the letter from his satchel and opened it. "Mask," he read. "I have discovered the Lancastrians' plan of attack: The Margrave is constructing a fleet in our harbors, financed by Horsea of Springthyme. He will lend this new navy and his own soldiers to the Lancastrians to invade by the ocean. If the size of the fleet is a sign of anything, it shows that the Arkosian navy may be destroyed. Help me put a stop to this." The Mask put the letter down on the table. "The rest is directions to the rendezvous he planned and other, less important notes."

"I have already volunteered a platoon of my best men for this strike," Taco said.

"And what is the purpose of this strike?" Austin asked.

"To sabotage the fleet in port," Lewdnep said. "Can't win a naval war without ships, eh?"

"And Arkos won't attack first," the Mask said. "If they are seen as the aggressors, too many will rise up against them. But if they are the defenders, that's a different story."

"And how would we go about destroying this fleet?" Nitesco asked.

"If the strike force arrives in time," Taco said. "It should coincide with a large storm. Under the cover of darkness, we sneak in and ignite the powder holds. As far as they know, it was a lightning strike that did it."

"With such a massive lost investment, my guess would be that Mei and Horsea give up. And without her allies, Generic will be forced to sue for peace." The Mask thumped the table with his fist. "And that would be that. Peace in the valley."

"That sounds… surprisingly straightforward," Austin said. "No fleet, no war."

"And hopefully we can avoid bloodshed at the shipyard," Nitesco said. "I can't say I'm not impressed."

Quail screeched from the windowsill. "See?" Nitesco said. "Even the bird likes the plan."

"Good to know," Lewdnep said. She chuckled.

"Yes," Taco said, less amused. "Now, if there's nothing else?"

"I don't believe so," Austin said. "Mask, you can take it away."

"Of course," the Mask said. "Austin, Nitesco. If you would follow me."

They obliged, following the Mask into the castle halls. "You know," the Mask said, "I'm surprised you came so readily, Nitesco. I didn't think your government would be so accepting of your absence."

"Well, I haven't been Prime Minister since the Church sacked my city," he said. "Never ran for reelection. Now I'm—ah, what did the diplomatic department call me? Discretionary Ambassador. That's fancy-talk for 'I have no official posting'."

"And Austin," the Mask said. "Where are those two bodyguards that came with you to the Diet? They were such an amusing pair."

"The Countess has given me control over their postings," Austin said. "Right now, they're taking care of my house with Kazehh."

"Your house?" the Mask asked, clearly unconvinced. He shrugged. "If you say so."

"So, where are we going?" Nitesco asked, seeking to change the subject.

"To meet a friend." The Mask stopped in front of a door and pulled out a key. "He'll be a vital ally when it comes to dealing with the Arkosians."

The Mask unlocked the door and pushed it open. Vulpix, his beard slightly longer and grayer, looked up from his desk.

"Vul—" Austin began, but a look from Nitesco stopped her. "Zealander," she said. "A pleasant surprise."

"Likewise," Vulpix said. Nitesco smiled and shook his hand.

"Looking a bit grayer," Nitesco said. Vulpix rolled his eyes.

"Say what you will," he said. "I can still outrun you." He tapped Nitesco's metal leg.

"And beat me in an archery competition," Austin said, pulling at her eyepatch. "But that's beside the point. You're coming with us to Nuts and Dolts?"

"Indeed," Vulpix said. "I know the place fairly well, considering I used to govern it. And influence in Arkos is never a bad thing to have."

"Do you know when we leave?" Nitesco asked.

"The day after tomorrow," the Mask said. "Gives you a day to prepare, talk to the men, whatever. The border isn't far, and the shipyard isn't much farther than that either. Should be quick if you go fast enough."

"Then we should be able to arrive in about three weeks, yes?" Austin asked. "Stopping a war in less than a month certainly isn't bad."

"It isn't," Vulpix said. "If we can pull it off."

"I've done crazier things," Nitesco said.

"There's no way to find out except to try," the Mask said. "You think you can do it without something going wrong?"

"Of course," Austin said, though she wasn't sure how convincing her smile was. "What other choice do we have?"


	16. Chapter 16

**July 30, 13 ATC**

**Fortuna Castle, Duchy of Karma**

The Mask walked through the halls of Taco's palace at a brisk pace, his agent struggling to keep up. Where the hell was he? Taco moved about the palace like a hummingbird, he noted, rarely in one place for long, and never in the first place he looked. Taco wasn't in the dining room, reception hall, office, or personal quarters. The Mask resolved, then, he must be in the meeting room, because if he wasn't there, the only other options were the privy or that he was assumed body and soul into heaven.

"Alright Taco, you in here?" the Mask bellowed as he threw open the doors of the hall. Taco sat at the long end of one of the tables, poring over documents. He jumped as the Mask entered, but regained his composure just as quickly.

"Mask!" he said. "A knock or three would be nice."

"I haven't the patience, I'm afraid," the Mask said. "Look, I have something very interesting to tell you. My associate here has discovered something that may completely change the balance of power."

Taco furrowed his brow. "Are you going to tell me what this something is or are you going to continue being dramatically vague?"

The Mask rolled his eyes, though he knew Taco couldn't see it. "Forgive me," he said. "But I have always had a penchant for the dramatic. I'll let my associate take over." With a dramatic hand gesture, he stepped out of the way and let his agent take his place.

"Sir, my name is Puzzarian," he said. "And I am a spy."

"Wonderful," Taco said. "Please, continue."

"Until recently, I was posing as a castle servant in the Arkosian capital."

Taco perked up. "Now that's interesting," he said. "Please, continue."

Puzzarian cleared his throat. "While I was there, I witnessed a man walking about the grounds. A foreign agent. But the guards there clearly knew that he was welcome there. This suggests that—"

"Do you know which one?" Taco asked. "Who was he? Who did he work for? 'Foreign agent' doesn't tell me anything."

"Peters of Checkmate," Puzzarian said. _That_ got Taco's attention. He straightened out and folded his hands together.

"You're sure?" Taco asked.

Puzzarian nodded. "Positive."

Taco turned to the Mask, a bewildered look on his face. "You understand the implications of this?"

"Obviously," the Mask said. "It would imply that Hozack and the good Bluewhale have some sort of partnership. Perhaps it's purely hypothetical now, or perhaps they've been working together to prosecute the looming war with Lancaster."

"But why? To what end?" Taco scratched his chin, deep in thought. "Of course, we don't really know what they were up to, right? We're getting ahead of ourselves."

"I saw him exit the audience room where Bluewhale was," Puzzarian said. "There's no doubt: they were speaking together. About what, I don't know, but they definitely have a partnership."

Taco sat back in his chair. "This is… worrying, to say the least."

"Exactly why I came as soon as I could," the Mask said. "We don't know how extensive this partnership is, nor do we know how long it has existed. But the evidence heavily implies that it does exist. With the influence they both have, they could create a hegemony that spans the entire Subreddit."

"That cannot be allowed," Taco said. "But what can we do about it?"

"We'll just have to wait and see," the Mask said. "But I, for one, am going to visit Arkos. I have an associate there that has extensive connections and information networks."

"He means she owns a lot of brothels," Puzzarian said. The Mask grumbled.

"Yes," he said. "But one does what one must. I will speak with her and gather more information on this. If the others return while I am away, please tell them where I am."

"And what about me?" Puzzarian asked. "Where will I be going?"

"You'll be staying here for the time being," the Mask said. "If I need you, I'll send instructions via bird. And I'm sure Taco won't mind hosting you."

"No," Taco said, a little chagrined. "I won't."

"Well," the Mask said. "It's been pleasant, as always, but I must go off and see what Peters has been up to. I'll be back before you know it." Before Taco or Puzzarian could do so much as wish him goodbye, he was out the door.

* * *

**August 9, 13 ATC**

**Deep in the forests, State of Marionetta, Margraviate of Nuts and Dolts**

Austin felt the first few drops of rain plop onto her head as she rode through the forest. Their intelligence was right; the border with Karma was undefended. There had been, however, several patrols and guards as they neared the shipyard, which forced them through difficult terrain in order to move undetected.

"Nitesco," Austin said. "How close are we?"

Nitesco stared straight ahead, oblivious to her.

"Nitesco," she asked again. This time, he turned in acknowledgement. "How close are we?"

Nitesco opened his map of the region. "Close," he said. "I think. We passed the big ridge with the green rocks?"

"Yes," Austin said.

"Have we passed the lake with the pillar in the middle of it?"

"Yes."

"Then we should be near the ruins where Various set up camp," Nitesco said. "From there, the shipyards should only be a few miles away." He rolled up the map and tucked it into his cloak.

"Good thing," Austin said. "The storm will be on top of us very soon. Quail's going mad." Overhead, her falcon was twittering and fluttering, irritated by the oncoming storm.

Nitesco nodded. "So it would seem." He went back to staring straight ahead.

"Okay, Nitesco," Austin said. "What is it?"

"Pardon?" Nitesco said.

"You're obviously thinking about something," she said. "What is it?"

"I don't want to talk about it around the present company," Nitesco said. Austin glanced over her shoulder. The soldiers in front and behind them were definitely close enough to hear their conversation.

"Fair enough," Austin said. "Then let's move to the rear."

Nitesco grumbled, but allowed Austin to turn around and head for the back of the line before following. Once they had reached the back of the column, and an appropriate distance from the nearest soldier, Nitesco started talking.

"It's really nothing important," he said. "Just some old memories. Unpleasant ones."

"It's clearly bothering you," Austin said. "So it is important."

Nitesco's face contorted like he was trying to think of a response, but quickly went slack. "I suppose you're right," he said. "But you must promise not to tell anyone. This is something that I didn't put in the _Accounts of ANGQ_."

"Of course I won't tell," Austin said.

Nitesco cleared his throat. "Okay, then," he said. "A long time ago, during the Revolt, our army came through here to attack Celtic's fortress through the mountain pass. And, on the way there, your father and Samurai were captured by one of Celtic's commanders."

"Greatness," Austin said. "Yes, I remember. I think Gwydion wrote that passage, because it made him sound very dashing."

A glimmer of a smile appeared on Nitesco's face, but it vanished just as quickly. "Well," he continued. "It didn't end there. While we were retaking the city, there was a good bit of civilian resistance. I—I got overzealous." He scoffed and turned away. "Well, overzealous is one word for it."

Austin chose not to say anything else. She had enough tact to know what Nitesco was saying. She saw how Nitesco refused to meet her gaze, and she didn't miss the crooked scowl he got when he was mulling something over.

"I don't doubt that you feel bad about this," Austin began. "Not that I fault you for that. But you can't let this bog you down. Not with the task at hand."

"Very reassuring," Nitesco said. His scowl twisted a bit more.

"I know it's not," Austin said. "I know it's not pleasant to hear, either. But no matter what happened in the past, we have a mission to complete. Hundreds of thousands depend on our success. Do it for them."

Austin watched with some trepidation as Nitesco's face hardened, but his expression relaxed soon enough. "Yes, you're right," he said. "Dwelling won't help anybody. But—" He stopped himself, his face alight with an expression Austin didn't fully grasp. "I don't know," he said. "I still think I need a bit of time to think on this."

Austin nodded. They rode for some time in silence.

A little farther down the road, someone at the front of the line called for the column to halt. Austin pulled her horse out of the column and rode to the front of the line, followed by Nitesco.

Vulpix was at the front of the column, peering out into the wilderness. "See anything?" Nitesco asked.

"I see some ruins over there," Vulpix said. "But I can't make out that big statue in the center. Is that a sickle it's holding?"

Austin followed his gaze. In the distance, there were several worn-down pillars standing in the middle of the forest, and a weathered statue of a woman holding a pair of scales stood in the center.

"No," Austin said. "A pair of scales, I think."

"Then that's the justice goddess," Nitesco said. "Those are the ruins where Various told us to meet him."

"How much farther is the shipyard, then?" Austin asked.

Vulpix shrugged. "Don't know. It's been a while since I've rul— visited Nuts and Dolts." He cleared his throat. "We should ask Various. He'll know."

"I'm sure," Nitesco said. He whipped his horse into a trot and began riding far ahead of them.

"You've really got to be more careful," Austin said.

Vulpix sighed and began riding alongside her. "Yeah, I got it. I've been working on it." He furrowed his brow and looked out into the distance.

"You too?" Austin asked.

Vulpix gave her an odd look. "What?"

"Nitesco's been a bit distant since we got here," Austin said. "And you have the very same look on your face as he does."

"Distant?" Vulpix asked. "No, not at all. Nuts and Dolts was always such a lovely country. The people are generally pleasant, or at the very least, less rambunctious than Arkos. I was just wondering if there would be anyone who remembers me here."

"Like old government friends?" Austin asked. "If I recall, this place was Arkosian for a little while, right?"

Vulpix nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Ah, yes," he said. "That's a story for another time."

"If you insist."

The storm was on top of them by the time they reached the ruins. Quail had ended his circling and perched on Austin's shoulder, trying to use her hair as shelter from the rain, while the soldiers with them were pulling their cloaks above their heads to protect them from the downpour.

As they dismounted and let the troops find somewhere to shelter their horses, Austin and Vulpix spotted Nitesco in the shadow of a large stone pillar. Next to him, scanning the incoming crowd, was Various.

"Ahoy there!" Various yelled. "Took you long enough!"

"It's a long walk," Austin said. "And it seems you've made yourself comfortable."

Various scoffed. "Yeah, nothing says comfortable like camping out in old ruins for a week because I didn't know when you'd arrive."

"But you knew we would," Nitesco said.

"I knew someone would come," Various said. "Didn't know it would necessarily be you, but I can't say I'm surprised." He cast a glance at Vulpix. "Though I am surprised you brought him along."

"This isn't about Arkos, if that's what you're wondering," Vulpix said.

"I figured," Various said. "If it was, the shipyard would be sea debris by now."

"So, how far is the shipyard?" Nitesco asked.

"Not terribly far," Various said. "Some ways due west. But we'll have to move carefully. The Margrave's manor isn't far, and I don't want to get caught with a platoon of foreign soldiers."

"Does he send out patrols often?" Vulpix asked.

"Fairly often," Various said. "We're at the far edge of his property, so we won't get any out here, but there may be a few as we head towards the shipyard."

"The storm should provide cover," Austin said, "if nothing else."

Various nodded. "Hurricanes like this can last for up to a week. Usually people stay indoors during this time, but since it's only just starting, we may encounter a few patrols heading back for shelter."

"So we'll be blowing up a fleet during a hurricane?" Vulpix asked.

"Wasn't that the plan?" Austin asked.

"During a storm was the plan," Vulpix said. "Not a hurricane!"

"Only a small one," Various said. A pang of thunder cut him off before he could say any more, and the rain came down even harder. "Or perhaps not," he added. "Still, you arrived just in time. Shall we set out?"

"We'll go on foot," Nitesco said. "If there are patrols coming back, riding on horseback will draw their attention much more quickly."

"Good thinking," Austin said. "Are we all set, then?"

"I think so," Various said. "May I address the troops?"

Austin and Nitesco exchanged looks. "Sure," Nitesco said reluctantly.

Various grinned and paced over to where the soldiers were mulling about. "Alright then, maggots!" he bellowed. "Here's the plan! We'll be heading due west. Spread out and stay low. When we get to the edge of the forest, we'll get a good look at the shipyard. Stay put. Don't do anything until one of us four comes and delivers orders. Okay?"

"Yes sir," was the general reply. Various chuckled.

"Been some time since someone called me sir," he said. "Alright then. Zealander, with me! I want to keep an eye on you!"

Vulpix rolled his eyes. "Flattering."

"Austin and I will bring up the rear," Nitesco said. "Make sure nobody's flanking us."

"Good man," Various said. "Well, then. Onwards and upwards!"

The platoon began their movement through the forest, and each man pretended not to notice the torrents of rain coming down on their heads. As the clouds amassed above them, the light gradually diminished until it was as dark as night in what was supposed to be midday. Quail had become very agitated, fluttering and squawking a short distance above Austin's head.

"By the Goddesses," Nitesco muttered. "I'm wondering if we'll even have to do anything to this fleet. The hurricane might just smash it while it's in harbor!"

Austin moved her hair behind her shoulders. It had been a mistake not to tie it up. "Were we so lucky," she said, "we wouldn't be here in the first place."

"That's a good point," Nitesco said. Lightning struck a tree branch above them, sending it to the ground less than a foot behind them. Austin yelped in surprise.

"Let's get a move on," she said. Nitesco nodded in agreement and quickened his pace.

They stalked through the woods for some time, careful not to move too fast for fear of being seen, but not moving so slow as to be caught by falling branches. After a miserable hour, the column finally stopped. In front of them, although blocked by a large thicket of trees, Austin could see an opening in the treeline. The shipyard would be just beyond.

Nitesco made a last check behind them for guards. "Looks like we made it undetected," he said.

"Lucky us," Austin said. "Now, let's go to the front and take a look. I'd—" She was cut off by the sight of Vulpix, clearly frantic, shoving his way to the back of the group.

"Zealander?" Nitesco asked. "What's wrong?"

"It's the shipyard," he said. "It's completely empty. There's nothing there."

"What?" Nitesco sputtered. Nitesco didn't wait to hear Vulpix's answer. He pushed him out of the way and dashed to the overlook.

"Nitesco, wait!" Austin cried. She grumbled and trudged up the muddy hill behind him.

At the summit of the overlook was Various, looking uncharacteristically troubled. Nitesco was next to him, facing away from Austin so she couldn't see his face. But past the two of them, through the thick rain and cloud cover, Austin could see that the shipyard was empty.

The fleet had already departed.

The soldiers had begun to murmur amongst themselves, turning accusatory and questioning glances toward their commanders. "What's going on?" one of them asked.

"A change of plans," Vulpix said. "Sit tight, we have a backup plan." That seemed to placate some of them, but they remained agitated.

"I don't understand it," Various said. "The ships were all here yesterday."

"They must have wanted to leave before the storm stuck them in port," Nitesco said. He sounded somewhere between irritated and exasperated.

"So the fleet is gone," Vulpix said. "Now what?"

"Now we need to find where they're headed," Austin said. "If we can't stop them here, then we can contact Bluewhale and stop them before they do any severe damage."

"I don't like the idea of Bluewhale getting dragged into this," Vulpix said. He grumbled and sighed, somehow in the same breath. "But it doesn't seem like we have another option."

"I think I might know where to find this information," Various said. "At the top of the hill. The Margrave's manor. Mei and some Lancastrian bigwig are making campaign plans there. I'm sure they have something of interest."

"Any possibility of negotiating with him?" Austin asked.

"The Margrave is a powerful man," Various said. "Moreover, he is a proud man. He won't give up his allies so quickly."

"Well, hold on a second," Vulpix asked. "Didn't we come here to stop a war? This may start one."

"For one," Various said. "That's the only place we're going to get any information. Two, and I thought you of all people would know this, it's not an act of war if there are no witnesses!"

"That's a little, um, flippant," Nitesco said. "But it doesn't seem like we have many other options. And if confrontation, if not all-out war, is inevitable, I expect Generic will sweep this under the rug if Bluewhale defeats her."

"Good to know we've got this all figured out," Austin said, a little dejected by Nitesco's cynicism. "Various, do you know the way?"

Various gave a thumbs up. "Like the back of my hand."

"Okay then," Nitesco said. "I'll give our soldiers the rundown. Wait until I get back to set out."

"Sure thing," Various said. As he turned away, Austin took Nitesco's place at his side.

A bolt of lightning illuminated the manor, far off in the distance. "You really think there's something good in there?" Austin asked.

"There's got to be," Various said. "Else we're all royally fucked."

"That's one way of saying it," Austin said. She knew he was right, though. If Mei didn't have any good information, then Various had committed high treason and the rest of them had just violated every rule of diplomatic protocol for nothing.

"How many patrols do you figure are still out?" Austin asked.

"No more than I can count on one hand," Various said. "And likely much closer to the manor."

"Then we have nothing to fear." She turned back to Nitesco and Vulpix. "Ready?"

"The men are good to go," Nitesco said. "Shall we?"

"Let's get on with it," Vulpix said. "Alright, men! Stay low and follow us! If you spot a patrol, signal!"

"Yes sir," the soldiers murmured. Despite their restrained attitude, Austin could tell they were eager for action. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

They crept through the forest like animals, crouched down and slinking behind trees and bushes while Quail fluttered from branch to branch above them. Various was ahead of them, and Austin could barely see him through the rain and dense foliage. She wasn't sure which way he was going. They seemed to change direction very frequently, though it wasn't like anyone could tell for sure in the storm. But Various seemed to know what he was doing, and the silhouette of the mansion on the hilltop seemed to be closer, so Austin decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Eventually, the manor was close enough that they could see people mulling about its grounds. The manor had no walls or obvious defenses, but there were more than enough guards to compensate for that. Various held up a closed fist—stop—and turned back to the congregation of soldiers. As he moved towards the center, they began to circle in around him, eager to hear what he had to say.

"Now, in case any of you don't realize," Various said, "that's the manor." He jabbed a finger in the mansion's direction as if he weren't clear enough. "There are two entrances. One's at the front, obviously. One's at the other end, past the large terrace in the back. I say we split up and strike each at once."

Nods and murmurs of assent. "Sounds like a plan," Vulpix said. "Anything we should know about? Traps, defenses?"

"None I can think of," Various said. "How many men do we have here? Forty? Fifty?"

"Forty-six, but with us four that's fifty," Austin said. "And fifty-one if you count Quail." The bird crowed in appreciation.

"So we each take twenty-three soldiers, and we split the four of us," Nitesco said. He stroked his chin. "I suppose—"

"Nitesco!" Various exclaimed. He grabbed him by the shoulder. "You're with me. We'll be attacking the front."

"I—" Nitesco stuttered. "Okay. I guess this works. First patrol, with us! Second patrol, with Austin and Zealander!"

The soldiers obeyed, chattering lightly amongst themselves. Finally, they said, some real excitement! Austin wondered how elite these soldiers really were.

"Okay," Austin said. "We're going to sneak around back. It looks like we can climb up the side of the terrace with a little effort. When I give the signal, we all pull ourselves up and attack. Then, we storm the compound. Any questions?"

"Yes," one soldier asked. "What's the signal?"

"Well," Austin said. "I was thinking that I'd signal my falcon to attack, Then we'd follow suit." The soldiers nodded, their faces alight with amusement.

"Sounds like a plan," Vulpix said. "Now, let's go!"

They crept up the hill in silence, keeping to the heavy foliage as to avoid the notice of the guards. As Vulpix and Austin crept through a particularly thorny patch, Austin hissed and muttered to herself.

"What's wrong?" Vulpix asked.

"My coat was caught on a thorn-bush," she said. She picked something off the ground. "My hand cannon fell out."

"You—have one of those?" Vulpix asked. "I thought Gwydion's was lost at Fort Bombus."

"He was planning to make a few spares for each of us," Austin said. "Only had time to make one. Nitesco gave it to me."

"You plan on using it?"

"We'll see," Austin said. "I'd rather not kill anyone, but seeing how that's unlikely, I'd at least like to make those kills clean. A shot with this? You're either dying of blood loss or sepsis if you don't kill them right away."

"A charming thought," Vulpix said. "Watch where you aim that thing."

"Always," Austin said. She shoved it back in her jacket as they arrived at the foot of the terrace.

The terrace was higher than the rest of the hill, and while there did not seem to be many guards still out in the storm, climbing up the side of the terrace would give the guards an opportunity to spot and engage them before they were ready. They would need a distraction.

Vulpix gestured for the soldiers to line up against the retaining wall as Austin whistled to Quail. The bird took flight from a tree branch and began circling above the terrace.

"Did you hear that whistling?" One of the soldiers above was speaking. Austin moved her head an inch to see who the nearest soldier was.

"Was it that? A falcon! Huh," another said. "Thought all the birds would be in their nests right now."

Austin fished a falcon target out of her pocket, a small ball covered in rabbit fur that she used to train Quail. She waved it in the air and watched with satisfaction as Quail began forming tighter circles in the sky.

"Looks like it's after something," the first soldier said. "Must be really hungry."

As soon as Quail looked like he was about to dive, Austin tossed the target at the nearest soldier. Quail swooped down, talons out, and took hold of that soldier's hair.

"Up!" was all Vulpix needed to say for the soldiers to clamber up the retaining wall.

The mansion soldiers were distracted by Quail's attack. Half were laughing riotously, and the other half were going over to help the young man when Austin and Vulpix's force came over the walls. Their confusion turned to alarm when Vulpix started the engagement by charging the falcon-ridden guard and skewering him.

"Attack!" Vulpix and Austin yelled in unison, but they hardly needed to say that. Their men fell upon the distracted guardsmen like a hurricane, taking the opportunity to thin their opponents' advantage in numbers.

Austin charged into the fray and elbowed the nearest guard with all of her force. He toppled to the ground, and Austin almost came down with him. She stabbed downward, into his throat, hoping to give him a quick death.

"Reinforcements!" somebody yelled. Austin turned to the back entrance of the manor and saw, to her dismay, that the reinforcements were Mei's. A dozen men were charging into the fray, spears out. Two more sat on the roof with crossbows. Austin sighed.

"More on the way!" she yelled to her men. Those of her soldiers that weren't finishing off the last of the terrace guards formed a line, spears out, to stop their charge. Austin slipped behind the line and turned her attention to the crossbowmen.

A bolt whistled next to her head and hit the soldier behind her square in the throat, killing him before he hit the ground. Another bolt flew by, narrowly missing Vulpix as he bellowed orders to the line. Yes, she thought, those crossbowmen would have to go.

Austin aimed the hand cannon at the first one. Aiming the weapon was difficult with only one eye, but she didn't have many other options. She considered herself lucky, so maybe she'd make it. "Headshot," she muttered, and fired.

She was wrong. The bullet flew through the air and struck the crossbowman square in the thigh. He hollered in pain and fell forward, off the roof, and onto his back. Well, she thought, at least he was gone.

As Austin turned her back and poured more powder into the hand cannon, a second bolt streaked through the air and landed in her left shoulder. Austin grunted in pain and fell onto one knee. "Someone get that damn crossbowman!"

Vulpix heard her command and pulled a light soldier from the line. He pointed at the crossbowman, who was still reloading his weapon. With one swift movement, the young man drew an arrow from his quiver, pulled in into his bow, and loosed it. Just as the crossbowman stood to fire, the arrow streaked straight into his throat. He barely had time to drop his weapon before he collapsed.

The Margrave's soldiers, their defense broken, retreated back into the manor. Austin approached a weary Vulpix as their men chased the Margrave's.

"You alright?" she asked. His uniform had been torn and bloodied, but he was still standing. He chuckled and shrugged her off.

"I'm ship-shape," he said. "It's just been a while since I've been in a real fight. And you might need some medical attention yourself."

Austin glanced at the arrow still in her shoulder. "After the battle," she said. She gritted her teeth and tore the arrow's tip out of her shoulder. "That," she said with a breath of pain, "will have to do for now."

"I'm sure the Margrave will have some supplies to loot," Vulpix said.

"I hope so," Austin said. "Oh, and before I forget. I think you should have this." She extended the hand cannon to him. Vulpix recoiled slightly, as if it was too precious to be touched.

"You want me to have it?" he asked. "Why?"

"Well, you're the only one here right now who I think would want to use it," Austin said. "And, you know, no depth perception." She pointed at her eyepatch.

"That's—fair enough," Vulpix said. He took the hand cannon and looked at it cautiously, as if it were going to come alive. "Let's not dawdle. Come on!"

The manor itself was spacious and well-decorated, but sturdier than it appeared. The walls were decorated with paintings of Nuts and Dolts leaders long since passed, and the carpeting was a rich velvet. Of course, the house was now also decorated with bodies and large scuff marks on the walls and floors.

"The soldiers have spread out," Austin observed. "The boys will take care of the rest of the building. Let's head to the foyer and see if we can't meet Nitesco and Various at the front."

"That's as good a plan as any," Vulpix said. Together, they made their way to the foyer.

As they approached the foyer, the two of them heard yelling coming from upstairs. Vulpix stopped in the foyer doorway and motioned for Austin to stop and listen.

"—they come from? It's in the middle of a fucking hurricane!" The voice was a baritone, similar to Various's in accent. Margrave Mei. "Who can it even be? The Arkosians?"

"That doesn't matter," a man with an obvious Lancastrian accent said. For some reason, Austin found it familiar. "All that matters is getting out of here. There's a passageway in the office, yes?"

"Yes," the Margrave said. "Yes. We'll gather the plans and go. Live to fight another day."

"Leaving so soon?" Austin said. She stepped out from behind the doorway, sword in hand. The Margrave yelped and stumbled backward into his two bodyguards.

"Austin?" he stammered. "This is a surprise."

"It's not just her," Vulpix said. He stepped out beside her and unsheathed his saber. "You fools. Did you really think building a whole fleet wouldn't attract any attention?"

"It's a little late regardless." The Lancastrian stepped out from behind Mei's bodyguards. Austin realized why his voice had sounded so familiar earlier.

"Spiderplant?" she asked. Spiderplant shrugged.

"Sorry," he said. "But I'm just following orders."

"I'm surprised to see you here," Vulpix said.

"I could say the same," Spiderplant said. "Well, not for you. I'm not very surprised that you came, truth be told, but Austin? I thought you were terribly against others meddling in Subreddit affairs."

"I make exceptions," Austin said. Spiderplant made an expression that was either disappointment or smugness. Austin couldn't tell.

"Enough banter!" Mei yelled. He exhaled and lowered his voice. "They want to stop us. They want to expose us. That cannot be allowed. Men, deal with them!"

"My sincerest apologies," Spiderplant said. He drew his sword.

"And mine," Austin said. She took a second to measure up her opponents. Mei's bodyguards were tall and well-armored, and wielded large halberds. Mei was armed too, but only with a dagger. Vulpix could handle one, and she could handle the other, but Spiderplant—

"So be it!" Vulpix bellowed. He pointed the hand cannon at the guards and pulled the trigger. In an instant, one of the bodyguards fell over, his brains decorating the wall behind him.

"Shit!" Spiderplant screeched. Vulpix was practically on top of him before he could recover. Spiderplant lifted his sword in defense and engaged Vulpix while Austin took on the remaining bodyguard.

The man was deceptively fast for his size. He spun and twirled his halberd like a street performer juggling torches, meeting Austin's every blow with one of his own. From the sidelines, halfway up the stairs, Mei looked on.

"Give up, harlot!" he clucked. "You should just give up! We have the advantage!"

Austin leaned into a strike from the bodyguard and knocked him away, giving her enough time to catch her breath.

"If you aren't going to fight, don't say anything!" She could have sworn she heard her opponent grunt in agreement.

As the bodyguard righted himself, Austin tried a different approach. She stuck her sword out in front of her like a rapier and feinted. The bodyguard flinched. She made another fake stab, this time for the head. The guard flinched again. Austin shifted back and forth like a snake, stabbing and thrusting but never letting her sword make contact. Finally, the guard had enough. He charged forward, only to realize that Austin's final feint wasn't a feint at all. At the last second, he twisted out of the way. Austin ducked under his halberd and swung her sword, slashing him across the stomach. His armor kept the cut from going too deep, but Austin saw that her strike had drawn blood.

"What was that you were saying, Margrave?" she asked. "I should—" She stuttered as she realized that Mei was no longer on the stairs.

A breathy noise, something like a wheeze, alerted Austin to someone behind her. She turned just in time for the Margrave's dagger to miss her neck and go into the arrow wound on her shoulder instead.

Austin stifled a cry of pain as she stumbled to the ground. "Damn it," Mei said. "Look, I don't like to get my hands dirty, so just hold still and make this quick for the both of us." His bodyguard leaned against the stair railing and cupped his wounds, watching on with satisfaction.

Austin looked to Vulpix for help, but she saw he was in the same situation. Spiderplant pressed him against the wall, and only Vulpix's saber prevented Spiderplant from disemboweling him.

"Don't try it," Austin said. Mei only sighed.

"You brought this on yourself," he whispered. As he raised the dagger to strike, Austin reared up and kicked him in the stomach.

Mei stumbled back. His bodyguard moved to catch him, but ended up just pushing Mei off-balance. Austin took the opportunity to get back on her feet.

"Want to try again?" she asked.

"Quit making a fool of yourself and kill her!" Spiderplant yelled. In her peripheral vision, Austin saw that Vulpix had taken the initiative and was now on the offensive.

"Fine!" Mei said. He gestured to his guard. "With me, soldier. Together we can't—"

The doors to the manor exploded open, causing Mei to shriek in surprise. His bodyguard readied himself for a fight, only to look confused when he saw Various in the doorway.

"The cavalry has arrived!" Various bellowed. Mei breathed a sigh of relief.

"Various!" he yelled. "I order you to kill these interlopers!"

"What's that?" Various said. "Say that louder."

"I said," Mei said, leaning in closer. "I—"

Various, in a flash, undid his net and draped it over Mei. Mei barely had time to scream before Various spun him around and slammed him into his bodyguard, right in the spot that Austin had earlier wounded. They both hit the wall with a painful thump and collapsed on the spot.

Spiderplant knocked Vulpix away and turned to look at Various in shock. "You?" he asked. "But why—"

He was interrupted by Nitesco slamming a guardsman's head through the nearest window. Spiderplant recoiled in surprise and fell away from the window. The glass shattered completely, leaving a large opening for Nitesco to crawl through.

"I see you've worked quickly," he said. He squinted at Spiderplant. "Spiderplant? You're here?"

Spiderplant grumbled as the four of them began circling him. "Yes," he said. "I am."

"You seem like a decent man," Various said. "Surrender, and we'll let you live."

"True Lancastrians are never taken alive!" Spiderplant bellowed. He dropped his sword and ran at Austin. She had no time to react before she was slammed against a wall, spun around, and held in front of him.

"Austin!" Nitesco yelled. Austin struggled against Spiderplant's grip, but he was several inches taller than her. He leveraged that height as he pulled up on her neck, forcing her onto her tiptoes.

"You stay the hell over there!" Spiderplant yelled. Austin felt the cold steel of a dagger press against her temple. "Or I brain her!"

"What happened to all that talk of apologies earlier?" Vulpix asked.

Spiderplant grimaced. "I'm sorry to do this," he said. "But I have a duty to fulfill. If that requires taking a hostage, so be it."

"This won't end well for you," Various said. He angled his falx at Spiderplant.

"Nor will it for her if you swing that at me," Spiderplant spat. "You've got two choices: let me leave with her, alive, or kill me and kill her too. The choice is yours."

"I have a better idea," Vulpix said. He sheathed his saber and instead pointed the hand cannon at Spiderplant.

Spiderplant shifted uncomfortably under the aim of the hand cannon. "You going to shoot me?"

Vulpix huffed. "I can pull a trigger a lot faster than you can push that dagger through her skull."

"Then why don't you?" Spiderplant asked. In his voice was no malice, but genuine curiosity. Austin wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"Because we fought together," Vulpix said. "Against the Church. We are colleagues in arms, and for that I feel I owe you something." He steadied his aim. "But if you do not let her go this instant, I will make sure your funeral has to be closed-casket. Do you understand?"

Spiderplant tensed up for a few seconds, and then finally breathed a sigh of defeat. "Fine," he said. "You win. She's yours." He pushed Austin towards them and dropped his dagger.

"You alright?" Nitesco asked. Austin nodded and turned to watch while a few soldiers entered and restrained Spiderplant.

"Ship-shape," she said. "Could've been much worse."

"Austin," Vulpix said. "This reminds me. How do you reload this thing?"

Spiderplant looked up as he was being dragged away. "You mean that thing wasn't loaded?"

"I don't think so," Vulpix said. "But you don't need to worry about that now." Spiderplant could only look on in bewilderment as he was taken away.

"So you wagered my life on an empty hand cannon?" Austin asked.

Vulpix shrugged. "It worked, didn't it?" Austin opened her mouth to respond, but decided not to.

"Hey guys," Various said. "What are we going to do with the Margrave?"

Everybody turned their attention to Mei, who was stirring from unconsciousness in Various's net. The situation slowly dawned on him, and at once he was alight with energy, cursing and thrashing against the net.

"Various!" he yelled. "You traitor! You bastard! You ingrate! Let me go this instant!"

"No can do," Various said. "Before we do anything with you, you have to do something for us. Just answer one little question."

Mei took a second to grumbled before he relented. "What?"

"Where is the Lancastrian fleet headed?"

Mei looked up at him with contempt. "Wouldn't you like to know, you rat!"

"Suit yourself," Various said. He reared up and kicked Mei in the nose. "Shall I ask again?"

Mei, hands restrained, could do nothing to stem his bloody nose. "No," he said. "No. I'll talk. The fleet is headed to Xiphos. Bluewhale is there, as is the Arkosian navy."

"How did you find out about this?" Nitesco asked.

"My family is well-acquainted with the Transporter's Guild," Mei said. "We bought the information from them."

"The Transporter's Guild?" Austin asked.

"Smugglers and shippers," Various said. "Associates of—and often rivals to—the Mask's syndicate."

"So common criminals got a hold of this sensitive information?" Nitesco asked. "I don't buy it."

"They're like the Mask," Various said. "Information network with criminal connections on the side. Did you think he was the only one?" He returned his attention to Mei. "Anything else you have to say?"

"The rest of the information is in my office," Mei said. "I have nothing more to say."

"Fine then," Various said. He motioned to the nearest soldiers. "Take him away."

"Wait," Mei said, and Various signaled the soldiers to stop. "Why, Various? I have to know why. Why'd you sell us out?"

"Because you already did," Various said. "You already sold us out to the Lancastrians. Do you know how long this country has been at war? How many rebellions and wars we've fought? Too many, Mei. And here you are trying to drag us into another one."

He knelt down and stared Mei straight in the eyes. "Men like you are all the same," Various said. "So eager to start a war, and so reluctant to fight it yourself. You'd have sent ten thousand young men to their graves, and why? To line your own pockets." He spat on Mei, and grabbed the net that entwined him. With one swift, expert motion, he untangled Mei and tossed him to the ground. "I have no sympathy for you. Take him away."

As Mei was dragged away, uncharacteristically silent, Various turned to his fellows. "So," he said. "What now?"

"Now we make our way to Xiphos," Vulpix said. "Only, how to do that?"

"And how to cover up the mess here," Austin said. "We've taken some losses, and some prisoners. What do we do with those?"

"There is still a brig left in the harbor," Various said. "I think Mei meant it for me. And if I've done my math right, we should have enough men here to man it."

"So, we just ride into an Arkosian port and tell Bluewhale?" Nitesco asked.

"Well, we do have Zealander," Austin said. "And several captives who can attest to our story. And in any case, I think he'd want to take precautions."

Various nodded. "We'll wait out the hurricane. Clean up and loot this place. And then we drag all these sorry fools along with us to meet Bluewhale?"

"Sounds about right," Austin said.

Nitesco nodded. "And then we'll stop this foolish war before it begins, and there will be peace again."

All his fellows nodded in agreement, and each one wondered, privately, if that peace could really come to exist.


	17. Chapter 17

**August 16, 13 ATC**

_**Winds of Change**_**, The Ocean**

Generic sat at a table in her cabin, scratching away at a map. Her first mate had given her a crash course in nautical navigation a few days ago, and since then she had been preoccupied by trying to figure out where they were by herself. Though she left the actual navigation to the experts, Generic had managed to successfully trace a path across the ocean that was, while not totally accurate, close enough to the intended path that she considered her skills to be improving.

Generic felt her chair slide back a little bit as the ship suddenly lurched to a stop. She had gained her sea legs quickly enough, but the sudden stop still got a rise out of her. She stood and set her sextant aside before heading out onto the deck.

The cold air of the evening was the first thing that struck her as she exited her cabin. Alongside her vessel, the _Kraken_ had set anchor and its crew were now tossing out boarding planks for a visit.

"Who called this meeting?" Generic asked the nearest crewman.

"Admiral Ahab," said the grizzled old boatswain. "The mate says we're only a day out from the Arkosian shore. He wants to gam with you."

"Right," Generic said, not entirely sure what 'gam' meant. She let the crewmen lay out and test the boarding planks, and once assured that they were secure, Generic walked up onto Venom's vessel.

Venom was standing at the stern of the boat, watching the sunset while smoking his pipe. He straightened up as he saw Generic in his peripheral vision.

"Venom," Generic said. "My navigators tell me that we're only a day out from Arkos. Is this true?"

"'Tis so," Venom said, chewing on his pipe. "Winds are in our favor. Likely we'll arrive at midday tomorrow."

"And the fleet?" Generic said.

They both looked out onto the ocean, where Mei's—no, _her_ fleet sat at anchor. Some were cloistered around one another, likely having gams of their own, while other sat alone in the water.

"Intact," Venom said. "It was worth it to take the long way around."

"At least you agree," Generic said, a hint of chagrin in her voice. When they had outlined their plan of approach, she and Venom insisted that they take a long, winding route away from the shores, as not to encounter any scouts or incur any losses. The other captains had protested, eager for confrontation, but they had been overruled. "Biggest chance of victory this way. The element of surprise and our numbers will prevail."

"So long as I get to step on land again," Venom said, "I don't give a seagull's shit which way we go."

"Ever colorful," Generic noted. Venom raised an eyebrow.

"Sensitive to language now, are we?" he asked. "Don't tell me you've gotten as uptight as those Arkosian fops."

"I am nothing like them," Generic scolded.

"And what makes you so sure?" Venom asked. "What makes us different?" She saw the smug smirk on Venom's face as he puffed on his pipe. She knew that he didn't mean anything by that, that he was just trying to get a rise out of her. And still, she felt compelled to defend herself.

"Do you remember when the Council was reestablished?" Generic asked. "After the Badaz League ran us out of Lancaster?"

"I do," Venom said.

"And do you remember how together we ran the priests and the nationalists out of court, after we confronted them for getting us under Inferno's thumb?"

"Vividly," Venom said. His beard twitched into a smile.

"Then that should illustrate my point," Generic said. "When their ideas proved to be a vulnerability, we threw them out. We do not suffer weaknesses. We shed them and grow stronger."

"How does that prove we're different?" Venom asked.

"Because we embrace change," Generic said. Venom raised an eyebrow.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

Generic crinkled her nose. "It means," she said, "that we aren't driven by petty things like tradition, or nationalism. Not a single soldier in this navy is prancing around like the fact that they were born here makes them better than everyone else. Sure, they're proud to be Lancastrian. I am too. But that's not why we are superior."

Venom let out a big puff of smoke. "Get to the point before I finish my bowl," he said. Generic frowned.

"We are superior," she said, "because we are adaptable. We are like a predator, constantly changing with our environment. We do not cling to ideas like 'the greater good' because there is no greater good. There is only the stupid and the cunning, the strong and the weak, the old and the new. We have no need for traditionalism or cultural morality, because we recognize this truth: that the new will always overturn the old. The acceptance of that truth, and all its implications, let us embrace new ideas, new strategies. _That_ is what makes us Lancastrian."

"So you're a supremacist then," Venom said.

"Perhaps I am," Generic said. "But surely you recognize that our people are famously adaptable. Why else do you think we reclaimed Lancaster so quickly? Why else do you think our soldiers so easily took to living on Inferno's land, or accepting and then rejecting the Church? Because our strength is the only law that binds us."

Venom laughed. "You should become a philosopher when you retire," he said. "But I have one question: you say might makes right, yes?"

Generic furrowed her brow. "It's more complicated than that—"

"But it's a simple enough statement for a layman, yes?"

"Yes, I suppose."

Venom flashed her a cocky smile. "Then what if we lose this battle to Arkos, hm? Would that make Arkos right?"

Generic opened her mouth to respond, but stopped. She frowned. "That would never happen."

Venom shook his head and laughed. "Not the question."

Generic eyed him disdainfully. Finally, she relented. "I suppose."

"You shouldn't get so wrapped up in philosophy," Venom said. "Spend too much time thinking about why you're fighting a battle, and you forget you're in one."

"Fine. I see your point." Generic began to walk away. "When should we set sail again?"

Venom looked over the ship and wrinkled his lips. "Give them an hour or two. Let the soldiers talk, have dinner together. This time tomorrow we'll either be resting in Arkosian barracks—" he paused, giving her a clever grin. "Or at the bottom of the sea."

Generic laughed it off, but his jab stuck with her. Her head buzzed with thoughts of philosophy, of predators and history and the ocean floor before she went back into her quiet cabin and shut the door.

* * *

**August 17, 13 ATC**

**Port of Xiphos, Province of Miloakouo, Oligarchy of Arkos**

Bluewhale sighed as he kicked his feet up on the desk. The fleet was almost fully manned and prepared to depart. He had concluded his last strategy meeting with a grand, foolproof plan to invade Lancaster. And Strike had just delivered a report informing of record recruitment rates. Everything was falling into place. He had earned a bit of rest.

"I've never seen you relax," Strike said. Bluewhale opened a single eye. Strike was still hunched over letters from the commanders at the border.

Bluewhale smirked. "How does it make you feel?"

"A little unnerved, actually," Strike said. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Now you can die happy," Bluewhale japed. He settled into his chair and felt himself drifting away—

"Sirs!" A soldier said, practically kicking the door in upon his entrance. "I have important news!"

"If it's that important, then tell us already," Strike said. The messenger did not seem fazed at all.

"We received a brig flying the colors of surrender a half hour ago," the messenger said. "It was full of prisoners from Nuts and Dolts. Their accompaniment was of particular interest, sir."

"Oh?" Bluewhale asked. "Who was on it? General Zealander?"

"Well," the messenger said. "Yes, actually."

_That_ got his attention. Bluewhale sat up. "What?"

"It's true, sir!" the messenger said, and finally he showed a bit of emotion. "He was accompanied by Austin, Nitesco, and, er, Various?" He shrugged.

"What?" Strike asked. "Where did they get these prisoners?"

"Nuts and Dolts, sir," the messenger said. "Alas, I didn't get the whole story. All I know is that the Margrave—"

"They took the Margrave prisoner?" Bluewhale asked.

The messenger nodded, bobbing his head up and down like an owl. "Indeed," he said. "They also have General Spiderplant—"

"Spiderplant?" Strike said. "With Mei?"

"Were they working together?" Bluewhale said. He hissed. "Bastards! Have they no honor?"

"Once again, I don't know the whole story," the messenger said. "But they are waiting outside with the Margrave to get you up to speed."

"Is Zealander out there?" Strike asked.

"Yes," the messenger said. "He and Austin are waiting to brief you. Various is escorting the other prisoners to the brig. Nitesco left to inspect the navy, he seemed in a hurry."

"Shit," Strike muttered. "Zealander cannot see me. Is there a back exit?" A quick survey of the room proved there wasn't.

"Hold on," Bluewhale said. "I'll just go on and meet them out there. Strike, soldier, just wait in here. I'll go see what the hell is going on."

Bluewhale closed the door to his office behind him, and noticed that Austin and Vulpix had already invited themselves into the foyer. On his knees in front of them, bound and muffled, was the esteemed Margrave Mei of Nuts and Dolts.

"Oh," was all Bluewhale managed to say. The messenger was right. Not that Bluewhale had doubted him, but to see it for himself was… bizarre.

"Bluewhale," Austin said. She sounded relieved, almost.

"Bluewhale," Vulpix said, distinctly less friendly. Bluewhale pretended not to hear the hostile tone in his voice.

"Skip the pleasantries," Bluewhale said. "Give me the rundown."

"Generic's built a fleet that's on its way here right now," Vulpix said.

Bluewhale straightened up. He almost laughed. He would've, if it had been anyone but Generic. "Where'd she get the materials for that?"

"According to documents that the dear Margrave here neglected to burn," Austin said, patting Mei condescendingly on the head, "he imported them from Horsea of Springthyme. Built them in the Margrave's shipyards. And now they're on their way here."

Bluewhale began grinding his teeth together. "Rather clever," he said. He knelt down to make real eye contact with Mei. "Got more than you bargained for, didn't you? I bet this wasn't in the fine print." Mei stared back at him with a mixture of hatred and fear.

"Don't do that," Vulpix said.

Bluewhale glanced up at him. "Friend of yours?" He made no effort to hide the venom in his words.

Vulpix shook his head. "It's just tacky."

Well, Bluewhale thought, maybe he had a point. He straightened up. "And this attack," he said. "When can we expect it?"

"Soon," Austin said. "Don't know exactly when, but it will be within the next few days at the most."

"Could be today," Vulpix added. "Very likely, actually."

Bluewhale stroked his chin. "Alarming," he said. "But we are in a good position to respond. Take him to wherever you put the others. I'll brief my officers."

Austin and Vulpix exchanged inscrutable glances. But they gave no protest, and dragged the Margrave away with them. Now alone, Bluewhale poked his head back into the office.

"Strike," he said. "I want you to go down the docks and tell everyone to mobilize within the hour. The fleet should be out on the water by midday."

"If it pleases you," Strike said.

"It does," Bluewhale replied. He closed the door behind him and went out into the port.

His ship, the _Sea King_, sat in its spot in harbor, looming over the smaller ships on either side. Bluewhale walked up the ramp and took his place at the wheel, ignoring the chatter and profanity of the seamen and soldiers buzzing about. The seas were calm that day. Not a cloud was in the sky.

"Ah, Generic," he muttered to himself. "It will be good indeed to see you."

"So, how long do you wager we'll have to wait for the Lancastrians to show up?" Various leaned against a barrel. "My bet's by tomorrow evening."

"It was good winds that got us here," Vulpix said. "But the Lancastrians will take the long way around, avoid scouts and whatnot. If I calculated correctly, they'll be here today."

"Won't that be lovely?" Austin asked. "Lunch and a massive naval engagement. Nitesco, want to have a picnic on Bluewhale's flagship?"

Nitesco shrugged. "So long as you bring the food."

"Amusing," Vulpix said. "But we have bigger fish to fry." He waited for a reaction. Nothing came. "Seriously? I thought it was funny."

"That makes sense," Various said. He patted Vulpix on the shoulder. "But we should focus on Generic and, uh, the other one. What did Spiderplant say his name was?"

"Ahab," Nitesco said.

"Right." Various shifted so he was back to leaning on the barrels. "The prisoners are in the jail. The plans are delivered. All there is now is to send those fools to the ocean's bottom."

"Are we taking a ride on Bluewhale's flagship?" Austin asked. "Or are we going to take the brig?"

"Personally, I think we should split up," Vulpix said. "Two on the brig, two on the flagship."

"Why?" Austin asked. "What's wrong with going all together?"

"He may have a point," Nitesco said. "All four of us clucking at Bluewhale at once may not be the best solution. Plus, I'm pretty sure it would be better to separate him and—" He glanced over his shoulder. Nobody there. "Vulpix," he finished.

"Lancastrians like to keep their leaders separate from the action," Vulpix said. "If Generic is among them, she'll likely be on a smaller ship, away from the main fight. I'll take the brig and one other person and we'll go take care of that."

A moment of silence. Nitesco and Austin glanced at one another.

"I'll go," Austin said. "I'm not sure how much the Arkosians like me. It's safer to send Nitesco with Bluewhale."

"Keep in mind," Various said, "that means I'm also going with Bluewhale."

Nitesco stroked his chin. "So long as you stay quiet," he said. "I suppose it isn't that much of a problem."

"It's settled, then," Vulpix said. "I'll head to the brig, get the men ready. We'll set out with the rest of the fleet."

"I guess I'll go too," Various said. "Can't wait to get to know the Admiral."

"Grand General," Austin corrected, half-serious. Various made a rude gesture and continued walking away.

Nitesco wrinkled his brow as Various continued away. "I can't help but feel taking him was the wrong decision," he said.

"Not really sure he and Vulpix would coordinate very well," Austin said. "They're both kind of old too. Best to keep us young people nearby."

"Young?" Nitesco said. "You'll make me blush."

"Save that for later, wiseass." Austin planted a kiss on his cheek. "And don't let Various do anything stupid."

"I will do everything in my power," Nitesco said. They laughed, but silence quickly fell in, and it lingered a moment too long.

"Nervous?" Austin asked. Nitesco nodded. "I am too," she admitted. "I've never actually, well, been on the ocean before this month. And I've never seen battle on it."

"I imagine it's like land war," said Nitesco. "Except, you know, more wobbly."

Austin cracked a smile. "I hope so." They lingered in silence even longer. "Well, I guess I'm heading out."

"Yeah," Nitesco said. He drew her into a hug, squeezing her tightly. "Stay safe," he mumbled.

"I will," Austin said. She became aware of the odd looks the sailors were casting her way. She didn't care.

As Nitesco pulled away, Austin noticed the heaviness in his eyes. He wasn't crying—he wasn't the type—but he was clearly worried.

"Hey," she said. "What's wrong."

"I'm, uh," he stammered. "Just nervous."

"For the battle?"

"For you." Austin raised her eyebrows. Nitesco nodded sheepishly. "Yes," he said. "I'm worried. You're heading out there on a dinky little brig, whereas I'm heading out on a fucking man o' war. I'm—I'm scared."

"Don't be," Austin said. "I can handle myself."

"I don't doubt that," Nitesco said. "But your skills won't matter if your ship is holed beneath the waterline."

"That won't happen," Austin said. "I have faith in Vulpix's crewmen."

"And your swimming ability?" Nitesco asked. His voice was sharp, but not accusatory.

"Good enough," Austin said. In truth, she wasn't sure how good of a swimmer she was, but he certainly didn't need to know that. "Really, Nitesco, don't think of it as a battle. Imagine it as…" She trailed off, no example coming to mind. "As a pirate raid!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Nitesco asked. He looked genuinely confused.

"Yeah," Austin said. "It'll hardly be a battle. We have the upper hand now, don't we? The element of surprise? I'm sailing in on a stolen ship, filled with a motley crew, and damn it, I've got an eyepatch too. You've got a peg leg. Well, sort of." She put her hands on her hips. "It's basically a pirate raid! In and out, less than a day. Barely any danger to us."

Nitesco's face had gone through confusion, apprehension, confusion again, and now looked quietly concerned. Finally, despite himself. He cracked a smile.

"Crap," he said. He laughed, a deep wholehearted laugh. "That's the stupidest thing I've heard this month."

Austin began chuckling along too. "See?" she asked. "There's nothing to worry about? Just, uh, Captain 'One-Eyed' Austin and her trusty crew going out to sea."

"Agh…" Nitesco said. "Fine. Okay. You got me. I'll, I'll go." He turned away before he paused and looked back over his shoulder. "See you later, 'Captain Austin'."

"May the winds be at your back, 'Captain Nitesco'," Austin replied. She gave a mock salute. Nitesco shook his head, smiling, and turned away.

Privately, Austin wondered how that had worked, but that wasn't her main concern. If Nitesco was thinking about her, however flattering that may have been, he wasn't thinking about his immediate concerns. If that kept his mind off things, then who was she to complain.

"Captain Austin," she mused to herself. "Has a nice ring to it." She ignored the sinking feeling in her gut as she looked over the broad blue ocean. She ignored the fear that Nitesco would sink along with Bluewhale and Various and never turn up again. Austin shook her head, rooted herself in the present, and started on the way back to the stolen brig.

* * *

Admiral Venom Ahab stared through his dusty spyglass, and made a mental note to himself to change the lens. He could barely see the signal flags. It was good enough, though, to understand the gist of Generic's orders.

"Write this down," he said to his page. "Engage… at… noon. Target… flagship. Do… not… harm… docks… if… possible. Stop." He handed the spyglass to the page and went down to the main deck. "Ahoy, Umbrione!" he called to his first mate. "What's the time?"

"About eleven-thirty, sir," Umbrione replied. Venom nodded.

"Alright, men!" he bellowed. "The port is just east! We're to target the flagship, but none are to fire upon the docks! The winds are at our backs, so we should be there just in time to attack at noon. Clear?"

"Aye!" was the common reply. Venom smiled.

"Good, that! To your stations! Engagement is by noon!" The sailors immediately went away and scurried about the deck, hurrying to the guns, or the riggings, or wherever their duty was. Venom, in turn, retired to his cabin.

He sat down at a table and began filling his pipe with tobacco. Privately, he was excited. Nobody should wish for war, but he so rarely had the opportunity to show off his naval skills. River battles were boring and small. But an ocean battle—the prospect filled him with anticipation. And, perhaps, he'd get to keep this dreadnought after the war was over.

Venom retrieved a match from his dresser and struck it against the rough surface of his table before kicking his feet up. As he lit all the tobacco with his match, he turned to look out the window and, to his surprise, saw a cluster of ships on the horizon.

Venom rushed out of the cabin, his pipe losing tobacco as he rushed out, and grabbed the bullhorn that hung just outside the cabin door. He lifted it to his lips and called up to the crow's nest lookout, "Marvin! Ships off to starboard! What are their flags?"

Marvin took a moment to scout the ships before calling down, "None, sir! They're civilians!"

"Civilians?" Venom said. "Umbrione? What do you think?"

"I think that it's nothing out of the ordinary," Umbrione said. "Xiphos is a well-known port, so they could be merchants or ferry ships. I only hope they aren't caught in the crossfire. That would reflect badly on us."

Venom pursed his lips. Even if they were civilians, they weren't exactly in a hurry. They were just sitting there. It unnerved him.

"Keep an eye on them," Venom commanded. "And tell me if they make any sudden moves. If they're pirates, we'll sink them in a heartbeat."

Umbrione nodded slowly. "Indeed, sir," he said. Venom ignored Umbrione's obvious skepticism.

As the fleet made its way by the pod of civilian ships, Venom felt a greater sense of unease. The ships didn't seem to be doing anything. They were clearly at anchor, but none of them looked damaged. That only meant they were waiting for something. But what?

"Contact!" Marvin yelled down. Venom snapped away from the civilian pod to look up at the watchman. Currently, he was clambering down the riggings, clearly panicking.

He pressed the bullhorn to his beard. "What colors?" he yelled.

"Arkosian!" Marvin shouted, the panic rising in his voice. "They're poised to fire!"

A thousand thoughts swam through Venom's head. They had been expected. They lost the element of surprise. In fact, _Arkos _had the element of surprise. But—

Venom didn't have the chance to respond. As the Arkosian fleet came into view, Venom saw flashes of light on the horizon. He only realized it was cannon fire when a cannonball struck the main mast square in the middle. It cracked in half and fell off the port side. Marvin, only a quarter of the way down the mast, lost his grip and fell to the deck, landing with a sickening squelch.

"Son of a bitch," Venom said. "Helmsman! Steer to port! Respond with a broadside! Signalman! Tell the others to engage evasive maneuvers! Lead them in circles!" He stuffed his pipe into his pocket and put a hand on his sword. "The battle's just begun!"

* * *

When the first cannon shots rang out, Nitesco thought his eardrums burst. In the field, he was usually far away from the cannons, or had time to cover his ears. But on the seas, he realized, the gunners were below deck, and operated more or less on their intuition than orders. Nitesco was startled, not to mention queasy. Various, however, seemed fine.

"Looking a little green in the gills," Various remarked. He laughed at his own joke. Nitesco raised his middle finger.

"Oh, don't be so sour," Various said. "It's exciting! You'll see."

"I wouldn't call the prospect of drowning 'exciting,'" Nitesco said. He steadied himself against the railing as the cannonballs from the nearest Lancastrian ship sent up a spray of seawater. "Fuck. I'm gonna die here."

"No you aren't!" Various said. He clapped him on the back. "Not with me here. And not with Bluewhale." He pointed at Bluewhale, who raced about the deck, barking orders and gesturing in several directions. On land, Nitesco thought, Bluewhale was tolerable. A good leader, but quite foppish. But on the sea, he was another person entirely. Here, Bluewhale was in his element. He marched across the deck like he owned it (which, Nitesco thought, he technically did) bellowing orders to his signalmen, his snipers, and his gunners, who all obeyed posthaste.

"I suppose so," Nitesco said. Loathe as he was to admit it, Various had a point. With Bluewhale at the helm, proverbially and literally, he was as safe as he could be.

Various guided Nitesco towards the helm, away from the bustle of the deck, and they watched the battle. All around them, Lancastrian ships flitted to and fro like gnats, trying to evade the Arkosian ships. Though they were fast, the Lancastrian ships were not as heavily armed, which Bluewhale was taking full advantage of. Nitesco heard someone bellow "fire!" on the deck, and in an instant, the nearest Lancastrian schooner was filled with holes.

"By the Goddesses," Nitesco said. The schooner listed heavily to the port side before it landed on its side and started to sink. "We've got firepower."

"Yes we do," Various said. He was more focused on the battle than Nitesco. Not that Nitesco could blame him, of course.

They turned their attention back to the battle. Across the waves, ships swam this way and that way, firing cannons and filling the air with smoke. A nearby Arkosian schooner exploded as a cannonball hit its powder hold. Not far beyond that, a Lancastrian frigate pulled up alongside an Arkosian one and they riddled each other with shot.

"Those are some pretty big ships coming our way," Nitesco said. He pointed. Various followed his finger to see three ships barrelling toward them, two brigs and a dreadnaught.

"Yes, they are," Various said.

"Do you think he knows?" Nitesco asked.

Various turned to where Bluewhale was. He was facing the opposite direction and giving directions to a signal officer. "I have no idea," Various said.

"We should tell him," Nitesco said.

"Yes," Various said, a little more anxious. "That seems smart."

Various raced down to the main deck and waved down Bluewhale, Nitesco hobbling on his prosthetic leg after him. They managed to get his attention while he was making his way to the helm. After he paused to bark at a boatswain, Bluewhale turned his attention to the two of them.

"What's the problem?" Bluewhale asked, clearly annoyed.

"Three ships coming straight at us," Nitesco said. Bluewhale glanced off the side of the ship and nodded.

"Good to know," he said. He looked off the side a little longer, and studied the oncoming vessels. Then, he turned to the nearest officer and grabbed him by the arm.

"Go down below!" Bluewhale's voice deepened an octave when he gave his command. "Tell the bottom row gunners to fire first, _then_ the top row gunners."

"On what signal?" the officer asked.

"They'll know," Bluewhale said. "Hop to it!" As the officer raced off, Bluewhale made for the helm and beckoned for Nitesco and Various to follow.

"What's your plan?" Nitesco asked.

"I'd like to know too," Various said. Nitesco pretended not to notice his trepidation.

"Like I said, you'll see," Bluewhale said. "Ahoy, helmsman! Steer us at that dreadnaught!"

"But that'll take us between the brigs!" the helmsman said.

"I don't care!" Bluewhale shouted back. "Do it!"

The helmsman, clearly anxious, obeyed. Nitesco and Various watched as the ship turned to face the Lancastrian flagship.

"The wind is at our backs, gentlemen," Bluewhale said. "Watch and learn."

The _Sea King_ hurdled on a collision course with the frigate, ignoring the two brigs on either side. At first, the dreadnought responded in kind, and moved towards the _Sea King_ at matching speed. But then it broke off, turned so its cannons faced the flagship, and fired a volley. Most of the shot hit the water, but some of it struck the front of the vessel and holed the front of the vessel. Nitesco stumbled as the cannon shot made contact.

"They're coming up on both sides!" Nitesco yelled. While the flagship had raced at the dreadnaught, the brigs had come up on both sides, one on port and the other on starboard. Their guns poised to strike.

"Exactly," Bluewhale said. He didn't bother to hide his excitement. "Watch!"

At once, the _Sea King's _cannons erupted in a haze of smoke and fire, and at once Nitesco saw the wisdom of Bluewhale's plan. The bottom row holed the brigs just below the waterline, which very suddenly rocked them and caused their own volleys to aim straight into the ocean. The followup from the top cannons took them as they began listing inwards, smashing their hulls and decks wide open. Water began flooding in as the ships began to turn into the water and its crewmen began making for the lifeboats.

Various nodded with satisfaction. "That was clever," he remarked. "A little close there, but clever."

"Oh, those cannons could never sink this vessel!" Bluewhale bellowed, and the confidence he spoke with almost made Nitesco believe it. "But that dreadnaught's might."

"That's their command ship?" Nitesco asked.

Bluewhale nodded. "I think so. And I have an inkling who's on that vessel too. It would bring me much joy to send it to the ocean's bottom!"

"Might I propose an idea?" Nitesco asked. Bluewhale raised an eyebrow.

"Speak," he commanded. Nitesco bristled.

"Instead of sinking it," he said, "I say we board it. If that's their command ship, then that's the one most will be looking toward for signals?"

"I believe so," Bluewhale said. Nitesco could see the wheels turning in his head.

"So if we board it, then we could take it over and send up a surrender signal?"

Bluewhale stroked his chin. "It's possible," he said. "And if we captured it, we could repossess it for our navy." He smiled and clapped Nitesco on the shoulder. "Capital idea, Nitesco! I'll make a sailor of you yet!" Bluewhale went back down to the deck to deliver his orders, leaving Nitesco with Various.

"Clever," Various commented. "I'm surprised you'd even consider boarding another boat."

"It's easier this way," Nitesco said. "Fighting melee is more my element than, well, standing around and trying not to throw up."

Various chuckled, loud and boisterous. "At least you're honest with yourself. Now, come on. I want you with me when I snare someone with my net."

Nitesco sighed, and he grabbed a railing while the _Sea King_ turned towards the Lancastrian flagship. He decided to make his way back down to the deck, where Bluewhale was.

"Alright!" Bluewhale boomed. "All nonessentials, ready for boarding! Grab your weapons, grab the harpoons! We'll be boarding presently!"

Nitesco didn't notice how close the dreadnought was getting until it was too late. The _Sea King_ struck it squarely in the side, slamming the ship to the side. The impact sent Nitesco tumbling to the deck.

"This is it!" someone yelled. Maybe it was Various, or Bluewhale. Nitesco didn't much care. He drew his sword and prepared for a fight as the dreadnought was hooked and dragged ever closer.

* * *

The seas were churning with shot and broken wood by the time Austin's vessel made it out to battle. Instead of charging into the midst of battle, Vulpix elected to take the long way around and skim the edge of the battlefield, searching for Generic's vessel. Unfortunately, they had no way of telling which was hers.

Amidst the chatter of the sailors and soldiers on deck, Vulpix approached Austin. "You see anything?" he asked. Austin squinted through the spyglass again. Ships jetted through the water and filled the air with smoke, making an already confusing landscape that much more chaotic. She put the spyglass down and shook her head.

"Shit," Vulpix muttered. "We should've done more reconnaissance."

"You're telling me," Austin said. "I'm the one who—wait! There!"

"Where?" Vulpix asked. Austin pocketed the spyglass and pointed.

"Those two big ships," she said. "Between them, a smaller ship. Tall mast, lots of signal flags." Austin squinted, as if deep in thought. "You think that's her?"

"It's worth investigating," Vulpix said. He gestured to the helmsman to begin steering into the action.

"You think we'll be able to get to her?" Austin asked. "Being sandwiched between two frigates is not exactly a sound strategy."

"We can hit and run," Vulpix said. "As long as we do enough damage. We sink her ship, then either she drowns or she's cast away and we pick her up later. Win-win."

"I hope you're right," Austin said.

"Aren't I always?" Vulpix asked. Austin only rolled her eyes in response.

As they rode closer and closer to the fray, Vulpix gestured for the helmsman to keep away from Generic's escort. The sailors too made their way to their battle stations, and the soldiers either went below deck or stayed on top to watch.

The frigates circled around Generic's ship protectively, like a bird around its eggs.

"The escort will rip us to shreds if we get closer!" the helmsman shouted.

"Keep away, then," Austin said. "We strike when there is an opening. Not a moment before."

They watched and waited for some time, and tried not to appear as a threat. For some time, the escort continued to circle around Generic's ship, which at least confirmed Austin's suspicions that it was important. Finally, an Arkosian ship got close enough to draw the escorts' attention, and as they moved to protect Generic, Austin saw an opening.

"Is it clear?" Vulpix asked. Austin pocketed the spyglass and nodded.

"Sail towards the ship," Austin told the helmsman. The helmsman obliged, and the brig lurched towards the action.

"Do you think we'll be able to see her from where we are?" Vulpix asked.

"Perhaps," Austin replied. "Why?"

"I'd like to see the look on her face when we do."

The brig crept up on Generic's position, slowly at first, and then they dropped the sails and quickened. At last, they were within range, and were close enough to see that they had been spotted by the Lancastrians on board.

"Is this close enough?" Austin asked.

Vulpix smiled. "Let's see."

As they pulled up alongside the brig, practically close enough for their guns to touch, Austin and Vulpix scanned the deck for Generic. They found her near the helm, next to the navigator, staring with confusion at their ship. But then, she saw the two of them, and in an instant her confusion gave way to anger and panic before their gunners unleashed a volley on her ship. Generic's vessel buckled under the force of the barrage and heaved to the opposite side. A cheer rang out from the men on deck.

"Did we sink them?" Austin called out to no one in particular. She peered through the cannon smoke. Generic's vessel had been unprepared, and took the full brunt of the volley without resistance. Still, it looked as if one volley was not enough, for the ship did not appear to be taking on water.

"Circle around and hit them again!" Vulpix commanded. The ship lurched as it turned back around.

"There!" Austin cried. Vulpix followed her gaze and saw that one of Generic's escort ships had turned back around. The frigate bore down on them like a falcon hunting its prey.

"Son of a bitch!" someone yelled. "It's coming straight at us!"

They fired on the frigate, but it was no use. As soon as it was close enough, it swung wide and prepared to open a broadside on them.

"Get down!" Austin yelled and tackled Vulpix to the deck. At once, the boat erupted in a shower of splinters and shrapnel. Sailors and soldiers alike ran for cover or were shredded by the cannon shot. Austin held Vulpix close to the deck as pieces of wood flew into her back.

And then it was over. The frigate turned around, preparing to come around again and finish the job. Vulpix pried Austin off of him and stood up. The brig had been mortally wounded. Bodies were strewn around the deck, some more smears than corpses, and the injured were just as plentiful. The side that took the brunt of it was shredded almost completely, and the masts had not broken but now had deep cracks in them. Austin stood, ignored the searing pain in her back, and looked across the water.

Generic's ship was lagging not far from theirs. Its rudder had been shot off and its sails were holed like an old quilt. She had an idea. A dangerous idea, but an idea nonetheless.

"Does this ship have lifeboats?" she asked. Vulpix looked up at her.

"That's not a good idea," he said.

"It will be when you hear what I have to say."

Vulpix grumbled. "Yes, we do."

"Does Generic's?"

"I'd assume so. Why?"

"We'll need them." Instantly, she shot off towards the stern of the boat. The helmsman was dead, as were his officers, but one Arkosian navigator was still alive.

"You," she said. "You know how to sail?"

The man nodded.

"Sail us straight at that ship."

He looked bewildered. "What?"

"Just do it." Austin turned to Vulpix. "Zealander!" she yelled. "Get everyone below deck to come up. Else they'll drown!"

"What?" Vulpix yelled. "What are you planning to do?"

"Ram them!" Austin exclaimed. Vulpix experienced a flurry of emotions all at once, or so it looked, but eventually gave himself over to resignation. Without another word, he opened up a hatch to the lower deck and yelled for them to come up immediately.

Meanwhile, the new helmsman obeyed Austin's orders, and the brig turned towards Generic's vessel. Austin felt the wind go into their remaining sails, accelerating them as they hurtled towards their target.

As the men below deck came up, they seemed to know exactly what to do. They looked off the bow, saw Generic's ship coming closer into view, and readied their weapons without a word of protest.

They got closer. Closer. Closer still. The frigate lined up another shot, but stopped, for their commander's vessel was in the line of fire. They were almost on top of their target when Austin spotted Generic staring at the oncoming ship. She was almost close enough to make out her bewilderment.

Then, the ships crashed together, and Austin was close enough to see the hatred in Generic's eyes.

* * *

Arkosian soldiers streamed onto the _Kraken_ and fell upon their opponents with relentless force. Nitesco and Various watched the commotion, as the dark red of the Arkosians' uniforms clashed with the lighter red of the Lancastrians'.

"By the goddesses," Various said. "I knew the Arkosians were fierce but I didn't know that they were _this_ fierce."

"You should see them when they're on the opposite side," Nitesco said.

"Not sure I'd put that on my bucket list," Various said. "Should we join the action?"

"Probably," Nitesco said. "You ready?"

"As I can be," Various replied. "Three, two, one!"

They vaulted over the railing of their ship and landed on the deck of the _Kraken_. Instantly, they were in the thick of it. Nitesco swung and stabbed, Various hacked and slashed, and already there was blood on their armor.

"Where do we go now?" Various shouted. Nitesco thought about it. There were only two places to go: below decks or the helm. Taking out the guns would be a start, but if the Lancastrians steered the ship away, they'd be trapped with nowhere to go.

"The helm!" Nitesco said. As more Arkosians streamed aboard, Nitesco and Various cut their way through the battle to get to the helm of the ship. They clambered up a set of stairs and arrived in front of the steering wheel. Various reached out and cut down the navigator at the wheel.

"Well, that's just barbaric," someone said. Nitesco and Various turned. Admiral Ahab stood before them, a grimace on his face.

"Says the one starting a war," Nitesco said.

"And finishing it," Venom said. "Doesn't that get me points?"

"No time for talk, wiseass," Various said. He unsheathed his falx.

"Really?" Venom asked. "No witty comebacks? No biting retorts? I expected better."

"The ass-kicking will be more than enough," Various said. Nitesco smirked.

"Well said," Nitesco said. He turned to Various and gave him a small nod, only to see a young crewman creeping up behind him.

"Umbrione, now!" Venom yelled. Various turned around and received a sword blow to the shoulder, and Umbrione's sword just barely missed his face. Nitesco whirled back around and barely blocked a strike from Venom.

"Nice try," Nitesco said.

"It was worth a shot," Venom said, almost sheepishly. They traded blows.

"Is it hard," Venom said. "Intervening in every squabble that happens in the Subreddit? How many times have you stuck your nose in other peoples' business? And how many times did it get—" He swiped at Nitesco's face, only narrowly missing his nostril. "Snipped off?" Venom finished, disappointed.

"You made it our business when you dragged it out in front of the entire Diet," Nitesco said. Swing, stab, swing again. Venom was obviously tiring. Nitesco almost felt bad for the old man.

"That was just the overture," Venom replied. This is our ace in the hole!" He feinted right, and Nitesco flinched. It was enough time for Venom to unhook the cat o'nine tail on his belt and whip Nitesco across the face with it.

"Argh!" Nitesco felt the lashes kiss his face. He backpedaled and avoided Venom's follow-up, but was still dazed.

"Been waiting a while to pull that trick," Venom said. "And look! The red on your face matches the red on your uniform!"

Nitesco grit his teeth and resumed attacking. Venom put up a good fight, but didn't have Nitesco's energy. It wasn't long before his back was against the railing.

"You must be younger than you look," Venom said. "To have so much energy. How do you do it?"

"Twenty minutes of stretching every night," Nitesco said.

"Seriously?" Venom asked.

"No."

"Hmph." Venom kneed Nitesco in the crotch and went for the cat o'nine tails again. Nitesco grabbed his wrist and twisted it, which elicited a cry of pain.

"Fool me once," Nitesco said.

"Shame on you!" Venom answered. He mustered all the force he was able and kicked Nitesco in the shin. Nitesco barely moved.

"The fuck?" Venom said. "Is your leg made of metal?"

"Yes," Nitesco said. He kicked Venom in the ankle with his prosthetic. Venom yelped and stumbled, and Nitesco used the opening to slash him across the gut. Venom groaned and clutched his wound before falling to his knees.

With Venom defeated, Nitesco turned to see how Various was doing. Various, it seemed, was having a much easier time with his opponent. Umbrione was relentless, heaving strike after strike after strike on Various, who kept knocking them away.

"Come here, coward!" Umbrione yelled. "Face me!"

"I am," Various replied. "I'm not impressed." He brought his falx down to his hip for just a moment, and then drew it out a short distance. The hilt struck Umbrione square in the gut.

Umbrione growled and brought his sword down at Various. He clipped him in the shoulder again, and Various grunted in pain.

"Impressed now?" Umbrione asked, his arrogance clear.

"Positively stunned," Various said. He snapped his falx upward, trying to hit Umbrione with his shortdraw, but Umbrione stepped of the way and slashed Various on the hand. Various grunted and dropped the blade.

"I didn't think you'd try that twice," Umbrione said. "Trickery can't trump energy, geezer."

"Then you haven't seen enough of my tricks," Various said. "Aha!" At once, he undid the net at his side and threw it at Umbrione. Umbrione yelped and frantically tried to escape the net as it constricted around him, which only ensnared him further. Various grabbed him and threw him down the stairs to the main deck.

"Never forget, youngster," he said. "Youth and energy will never triumph over old age and treachery."

Umbrione struggled out of the net, finally finding the exit. He tossed it off and looked back up the stairs. "Bastard!" he yelled. "Let's go for round two!"

Umbrione bellowed a war cry and started up the stairs when a mace caught him square in the nose. He fell backward, dazed, and looked up to see his assailant.

"You had your chance," Bluewhale said. His hand tightened around his mace. "Sorry, friend."

Umbrione growled and went for Bluewhale's weapon hand. In an instant, Bluewhale tossed his weapon from his right hand to his left, and stopped Umbrione dead in his tracks by bringing his mace down onto his skull. Umbrione crumpled to the ground.

"I take it we've won here?" Nitesco asked. He did a quick check of the deck. All the Lancastrian crewmen were either dead on the ground or surrendering. The ship was theirs.

"On this ship, yes," Bluewhale said. "As soon as my men find where they keep the signal flags, we'll send out the surrender signal. Then, this pointless battle will finally be over."

"It's not over yet," a raspy voice crowed, "you pansy son of a bitch!"

Nitesco turned around. Venom lurched at him. How he hadn't succumbed to his wounds was a mystery. He was clutching his stomach with one hand, trying to stem the blood flow, and held his sword loosely in the other. He shambled towards Nitesco, his ankle broken, his uniform and beard stained with blood.

"Come on, you gutless whoreson," he taunted. "Do it! Cut me down! Finish me off! You don't have the balls!"

Nitesco didn't even notice that Various had moved behind Venom. Apparently, neither did Venom, because his face contorted with surprise and pain as Various brought his falx down into the man's collarbone. Venom gurgled and dropped his sword, before Various wrenched the falx out. The admiral instantly collapsed into a pool of his own blood and went still.

"Damn," Various said. "That was pretty badass." He poked Venom's body with his foot, making sure he wouldn't get up again. "Kinda hope he stays down though."

"I concur," Nitesco said. He turned back to the mast. Already the Arkosians were hoisting the surrender signal up the line. "Now what?"

"Now?" Various asked. He shrugged and looked out onto the ocean. "I guess we just wait."

* * *

As their ships collided, Austin vaulted over the railing of her ship and barely avoided falling into the sea. The Lancastrian sailors around her were too caught up in the surprise of being rammed to notice her. She brushed past them and made her way to the helm.

And there was Generic, all alone. Generic noticed her presence, and registered it with a look of utter contempt.

"You," she spat. "I can't believe it. You came all this way, _just_ to spite me?"

"It's nothing personal," Austin said. "There's a war. You're starting it. I'm stopping it."

"You know," Generic said. "I'm hardly even surprised. I should've known you and Nitesco would've interfered."

"How do you know Nitesco's here?" Austin asked.

Generic scoffed. "Isn't it obvious? You two are together wherever you go. Keep at it any longer and people might start to talk."

Generic's snide grin irked Austin. She drew her sword.

"Finally down to business, huh?" Generic asked. "Very well." Generic responded by drawing a sword of her own, a falchion, immaculately polished. Austin wouldn't have been surprised to hear it was brand new.

Austin made the first move, a quick strike to test Generic's defense. Generic responded with an attack of her own, a quick swipe that caught Austin in the stomach. If she hadn't been wearing armor, it might've done serious damage.

"So eager to fight," Austin chided. "So unwilling to lose gracefully."

Generic humphed. As she crossed blades with Austin, Austin noted her form. She had perfect posture and rigid form, but there was a sense of conviction in her eyes. It made her a dangerous opponent.

"Who says we'll lose?" Generic said. She went for Austin's good eye, but missed.

"Your ship is sinking," Austin said, going for a thrust. Generic sidestepped it. "Your navy is shot. You've already lost."

Generic growled. Austin did have a point. Ramming a brig into her ship had holed it, and even though it was only sinking slowly, Generic could still feel the ship sinking beneath them.

Around them, the soldiers and sailors clamored against one another. Austin's men streamed from their sinking ship onto Generic's, fighting with daggers, swords and fists as the ship rumbled beneath them. Austin couldn't see where Vulpix was, but their brig was empty, so he had to be somewhere.

"No," Generic said. "It isn't over yet. Even if we're defeated here, we have contingencies. And even if those are defeated, we'll rise again. You can't stop fate."

"You didn't strike me as a fatalist," Austin said. She grunted as she body-checked Generic. Generic stepped back and rebalanced herself, answering Austin's next strike with a stripe across the lip.

"I'm not," Generic said. "But I know the tides of history. They are in our favor."

"Never heard that one before," Austin said. Generic humphed and swung again.

"I'm not just mouthing off," she said. "It's the way of the world. The eternal cycle: the new supplants the old. Those who are willing to change replace those who are not."

"What a crock of shit," Austin said. Generic grit her teeth and kicked Austin square in the chest, eliciting a small "oof."

"Can you say that Arkos is long for the world?" Generic asked. She locked blades with Austin. "That it could stand without others holding it up? Bluewhale projects strength, but without him, it all crumbles down. They use tradition as a crutch, and that makes them weak."

"As opposed to you, who have such progressive ideals," Austin taunted. She elbowed Generic in the nose.

"We don't hold ourselves to outdated ideas of honor," Generic said. "We do what we have to do to win. It matters little. Success and adaptivity are the only things that matter in the world. We have both. They have neither. It is only right we should take their place!"

Underneath them, the ship shifted. The water had gotten high enough to lap at the feet of those on the main deck. The ship was listing to starboard, and both of them were beginning to lose their balance. Austin swayed and almost fell over, but someone grabbed her by her collar and pulled her back.

"And yet here you are," Vulpix taunted. "Losing."

"Ah," Generic said. She wiped the blood off her nose. "I should've known you'd crawl out of whatever hole you hid in for this. Now I get to put two heroes into the grave."

"I hoped you dug one deep enough for three," Vulpix sneered.

Vulpix swung at Generic with abandon, who responded with calculated precision. Each strike was rebuffed and knocked aside. Austin charged Generic and slammed her into the railing to give Vulpix an opportunity to catch his breath.

"I can fight to a standstill," Generic said, heaving Austin off her. "I can swim. But you and the geezer? I doubt it."

"And what do you want us to do about it?" Vulpix asked. Generic finally pushed Austin away, and she fell on her back. Vulpix charged Generic just in time to distract her from a prone Austin.

"Just die!" Generic shouted. "Die and be done with it!" She lifted up her foot and slammed it into the boards beneath Vulpix's feet. Already weakened by the cannon shot earlier, the floor collapsed under him, and Vulpix plunged into the waterlogged cabin beneath them.

"Vulpix!" Austin shouted. She scrambled to her feet and just barely dodged Generic's swing.

"Too late," Generic said. "I hope he can swim." Austin merely growled and attacked again.

As they traded blows, Austin noticed that Generic was tiring. She put up a good fight, but her stance loosened, her rigid poise relaxed. Their fight was nearing the end.

"Just stop, Generic," Austin said. "The ship's practically sunk. You're tiring. Give up."

Generic glanced at the main deck. It was almost completely submerged, the bodies on deck floating in the water, and the surviving soldiers on both sides had abandoned the fight to seek anything that would help them stay afloat. Only the boat's heavy downward list was keeping Austin and Generic dry.

Austin stumbled backward, almost falling into the hole that claimed Vulpix. She grit her teeth and battled Generic back.

"We still have the advantage," Generic said with a mix of bravado and fear. "_You_ should be the one to give up."

"You sound so Arkosian when you say that," Austin said. Generic growled and swung again.

"How dare you!" she yelled. She swung again, but lost her footing and fell forward, landing against the ship's wheel.

"Just calling it like I see it," Austin said. "You talk a big game about change and adaptivity, but it's all just smoke and mirrors. Maybe all that is true for the rest of you. I don't know. But what I do know is that when I hear you talk, when I see you fight, I see Bluewhale more than I see you."

"Liar!" Generic screamed. She made one last swing at Austin, but Austin easily parried it and knocked the falchion from Generic's hand.

"I'm not the one lying here," Austin said. "Not to myself."

Generic roared and charged her, fists out, ready to pummel her. Austin stepped back and brought her blade up. Generic reared back and tried to stop, but Austin brought the sword forward and slashed her through the chest, under the armpit. Generic clutched her wound and grimaced.

"Does it end… so soon?" she asked. There was genuine disappointment in her eyes.

Austin sighed. "You have nobody to blame but yourself." Generic offered no resistance as Austin grabbed her by the collar and hoisted her over the side.

"Austin!" Vulpix yelled from the cabin. Instantly, Austin turned her attention to him. He was up to his neck in water. "How do I get up?"

"Hang on!" Austin yelled. She jumped down, sword out, and landed with a splash next to him. The ocean water was brisk and stung her wounds.

"What the hell?" Vulpix asked. "You're supposed to get me out!"

"I am," Austin said. "There!"

Across from them was a cabin window, fractured, but not broken. Austin reared back and shattered it with her sword, cleaning the glass shards off with the tip.

"You can swim, I hope," she said.

"Adequately." Vulpix shivered. "Generic? Is she—"

"She's gone," Austin said. "But she's not our main concern now. Come on!"

Vulpix pushed his way out and swam a ways out, followed by Austin. They turned in the water and watched as Generic's ship floundered in the sea. Their own ship was nowhere to be seen, presumably already beneath the waves.

"There!" Vulpix said. Near them, a lifeboat floated. It was scratched and splintered, but mostly intact. He swam towards it and hoisted himself up before helping a shivering Austin on board behind him.

Once inside, they both collapsed, sopping wet and tired. Vulpix leaned against the side of the lifeboat. "Now what?"

"Now?" Austin shrugged and laid down in the middle of the lifeboat, breathing heavily. "I guess we just wait."

* * *

When the smoke had cleared and the cannon fire had ceased, the ocean was strewn with wreckage and castaways. The Lancastrian navy had been destroyed, save for a few ships Arkos had managed to capture. And although Bluewhale would sing praises of their victory, the Arkosian navy had lost many good ships and sailors as well.

"Any sign?" Bluewhale asked. Nitesco down the spyglass and shook his head.

"Well, the day's not over yet," Various said. "And there's still plenty of wreckage to sift through. How many castaways did we get from the last ship? Eight?"

"Nine," Bluewhale said. "Austin is resourceful. Zealander too. If any of our allies were to survive, it would be them."

Nitesco nodded, but still seemed unsure. They sailed for a little while more.

"Captain!" one of the watchmen said. "Castaways! There!"

"How many?" Bluewhale asked.

"A lot!"

Bluewhale grumbled something about being specific and peered into the sea. The watchman was right, at least. There were several castaways, many hanging on pieces of wood, but a few were in lifeboats. Bluewhale scanned the ones closest to the ship and saw—

"There they are," he said. Nitesco perked up immediately.

"What? Where?" he asked. Bluewhale pointed, and Nitesco ran over to see for himself. Various followed, faint surprise on his face.

"Up here!" Nitesco yelled. Austin, laying on her back, opened her eyes. It took a few moments for her to realize what was going on before she shook Vulpix awake.

"Nitesco! Various!" Vulpix yelled. "You're alive!"

"So are you!" Nitesco yelled back. He smiled with relief. Various cracked a smile too, but quickly stifled it.

"Send down a rope!" Bluewhale commanded. The crewmen obeyed. Vulpix climbed up first, followed by Austin. Bluewhale himself pulled both of them up onto the deck and walked them over to Nitesco and Various.

"I'm glad you're alive," Austin said. She hugged Nitesco. "You too, Various."

"I'm glad I'm alive too," Various said. "I see the old codger survived."

"Yes," Vulpix said. "'The old codger' isn't as old as you make him out to be."

"I hate to interrupt," Bluewhale said. "But you went after Generic's ship, correct?"

"We did," Vulpix said. "It's sunk, now."

"Did you kill Generic?" Bluewhale asked.

"I'm fairly certain," Austin said. "Got her good in the ribs before she went overboard. Didn't see her surface."

"But we don't know if she died for certain," Bluewhale said. He frowned.

"Even if she is still alive," Various said. "Where would she be? Either she's fish food or she's clung to a raft somewhere and we'll pick her up."

"I don't like leaving anything to chance," Bluewhale said. "I'd rather not have her make a reappearance when we conquer Lancaster."

"Conquer?" Nitesco asked. "Didn't we just finish doing that? We beat them. Ahab and Generic are dead. Spiderplant is our prisoner. There doesn't need to be a war."

"Oh, I disagree," Bluewhale said. "It doesn't end just because they're gone. The threat to Arkos hasn't disappeared. They started this war, and I will finish it." He turned away.

"And what will you do when you win?" Austin asked. Bluewhale stopped and put a hand on his chin.

"I suppose I hadn't considered that," he said. "But this is a topic for another time. I'll get you on a ship back to the docks while we clean up here. Rest, and we'll talk about it tomorrow."

As Bluewhale walked away, a cloud gathered over the four of them. All of that work, just for a war to start anyway?

"So much for peace," Various said. Silently, the rest of them agreed.

* * *

Water in her lungs. Salt in her wounds. Generic stirred.

She barely remembered surfacing after she fell into the ocean. She barely remembered climbing onto the nearest lifeboat, half-broken though it was. She barely remembered falling in and out of consciousness as the current took her far away from the battle.

She only remembered one thing: that feeling of failure. That crushing sense of shortcoming. It was more painful than any cut Austin had given her.

All that talk about change. All that talk about adaptation, strength, cunning. Doing what needed to be done. Victory was inevitable, she said. Then how come they had lost?

The afternoon sun warmed Generic until she could barely breathe. Her lips cracked. Her bloody nose dried. The lifeboat continued to drift.

Maybe Amelia was right, Generic thought. Maybe there was nothing to be gained by fighting. If Lancaster was so clever and cunning, why did they have to fight anyway? Was there a way to win without fighting, like Amelia always said? But she had wanted more, and she wanted it now. She remembered her old tutor telling her that impatience would destroy even the greatest plans. Perhaps she should have paid more attention in her strategy classes.

The lifeboat drifted even further. Her eyelids grew heavy. Something dark cast its shadow on her. Clouds? People? The angels come to take her away? Who knows, she thought. Who cares?

The shadows grew closer. Generic's eyes closed. She fell into darkness.


End file.
